The Morgan Lore - 16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Unforgivable Violence

On a sunny Saturday mid-morning, the snow melting on the ground outside, the scent of Marie’s favorite tomato sauce and basil in the air from their lasagna. Sitting on a chair at the kitchen island table, Milan got his first kiss.

Rory’s scent filled his nostrils: clean earth and wood, as though Rory had ran through the rain, in a fragrant field filled with lavender. Rory’s lips on his felt soft, gentle. They caressed his, drawing a soft moan from him, his breath caught, his fingers digging into his palms. Heat flooded his cheeks when Rory ended the kiss, moving back: a slight short distance. Milan closed his eyes feeling Rory’s breath on his lips.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you from the first time I saw you,” Rory murmured, making Milan open his eyes to look into breathtaking blue eyes. “I will never run from you, Milan Takeda. I will never see you as less because you’re ill. You’re the most beautiful soul I’ve seen in my life.”

Milan bit his bottom lip to stop a smile. What luck was this? Rory Morgan kissing him. Rory Morgan, the most handsome guy in school, even Rowen wanted a piece of him. Milan had thought kissing Rory a fantasy. Something that could not happen in this lifetime.

Were Rory’s eyes okay?

“They are just fine.” Rory answered.

Milan gaped, realizing Rory’s eyes were filled with amusement.

“You asked that aloud,” Rory said.

Milan closed his mouth and started to lean back only to have Rory stop him with a hand on his shoulder.

“Are you upset about the kiss?” Rory asked, his gaze narrowing. “Do you hate it?”

Milan shook his head.

“I’m in shock you want to kiss me.” Milan grinned, thinking he could now brag about getting his first kiss. “Um, you’re m-my f-first k-kiss. I’ve never been kissed before.”

The last part came out too fast, and Milan buried his face into his hands in embarrassment.

Rory chuckled and leaned in to press a kiss on the top of Milan’s head.

“You’re too cute,” Rory said.

Milan let out a short laugh at that compliment, dropping his hands away, he looked at Rory.

“Can-can we do it again?” Milan asked. “I want to remember every second this time. The first time sort of—

Rory cupped his face and kissed him again, cutting him off. This time Milan was ready for the shattering feel of Rory’s kiss. Hot and igniting, it sent heat racing through him as nothing else could. He felt breathless when they broke apart the second time. Rory pressed his forehead on Milan’s, taking in air.

Milan kept his eyes closed, his hands coming up to stroke up Rory’s arms.

His heartbeat racing in his chest, he opened his eyes and met Rory’s adoring gaze. In that moment, he wondered if fate would let him keep Rory. He had watched hundreds of movies, seen kisses on screen, and guessed at the merits of kissing. He had not thought he would get someone to kiss in his life.

“I’m not dreaming, right?” Milan asked, holding on to Rory’s wrists.

Rory smiled and leaned in to brush his lips against Milan’s.

“You’re awake.”

Milan nodded, appreciating the hot tingles that raced down his back, and the warmth that filled his heart.

“My mother will kill both of us with her gaze when she sees us,” Milan felt compelled to point out.

He knew the cost of a kiss. Sharing something so intimate…the consequences on his health would be intense. Meeting blue eyes, he decided it was a price he was willing to pay to feel Rory’s kiss.

***

Rory sighed at the thought of Ilaria and her many rules. Her worry for Milan was real. He could not blame her, yet he could not give up this new found right to kiss Milan. Had he known it would feel like this: so addictive, he would have done it weeks ago.

“We can keep it a secret for now,” Rory said, hating the thought of hiding any part of his relationship with Milan. It was getting harder to keep his love for Milan hidden. Every second of his day and night was filled with Milan. Now, he imagined it would turn impossible to deny his feelings.

“I—”

Rory broke off, knowing it was too soon to tell Milan what was in his heart. Milan wasn’t ready yet. His heart squeezed tight and he closed his eyes breathing through the warring need to declare himself.

“I like you,” Milan murmured. “Nessuno e` come te.”

“What does that mean?” Rory asked, holding Milan’s gaze.

“No one is like you to me,” Milan answered with a blush.

Rory felt his left wrist grow hot. He dragged his gaze away from Milan to look at the bracelet on his wrist. His heart soared in joy when the second leaf disappeared leaving three.

***

Ilaria came home from work, tired and a tad frustrated with the cold weather. She wished she could take Milan driving, but the wind was chilly. She didn’t want to risk his health right now. Not when he was enjoying school so much.

Weekends were hardest on Milan, not knowing what to do, he spent them making up projects in his art room in the basement, or watching movies. One can only watch so many movies before they lose their mind. She wanted more for Milan. Wished he could have some of the freedom he found in Turin.

Entering the house, she carried two bags of groceries to the kitchen, where Marie was already busy making dinner.

“Welcome back,” Marie greeted. “You look tired. Want a coffee?”

“I would love a coffee,” Ilaria said, placing the bags she held on the counter. Letting a sigh escape, she watched Marie pour her a mug of coffee. “Has Kiyo come by?”

Marie glanced at her, before she shook her head in the negative.

Ilaria let out another sigh.

“He will surely forget to eat proper meals in that lab. I’ll take him clothes and food after I rest a bit.”

Marie shook her head as she brought the mug of coffee to Ilaria.

“It pains me to say this. You live like a single mother. This move has not changed much from what it was in Turin.”

“This is my lot in life,” Ilaria said, sipping the coffee with a grateful smile.

Marie touched Ilaria’s hair, dark waves messy in a ponytail, and then her cheek. Ilaria’s skin was bare of any make up.

“He makes you forget you’re a woman,” Marie said, her tone heavy with sadness. “You don’t even try anymore, Ilaria.”

Ilaria shrugged off Marie’s comment. She had made peace with her life the moment she watched Milan struggle to breathe through a series of pneumonia infections. She lived as a mother and a doctor now. There did not seem to be room for more.

“My mother used to tell me about violenza imperdonabile,” Marie said, leaning on the counter next to Ilaria. “How we commit it every day to ourselves when we fear doing what we feel.”

“Unforgivable violence,” Ilaria murmured, staring into her mug. “Judging it from your explanation, I am free of it, Marie. I do want to live as a mother and a doctor.”

“It is true that you are a mother and you’re a doctor,” Marie said. “But you’re also a beautiful woman whose husband lives in a bubble. As a result, you’ve closed yourself within to cope. One of these days you’re going to look in the mirror and feel very upset that he has forgotten your beauty.”

Ilaria scoffed at that. Kiyo was too wrapped up in his research to think of beauty or romance.

“So, once again I will remind you. Ilaria, wear your favorite red lipstick, sexy dress and heels. Go visit Kiyo and remind him to pay attention. If not romance,” Marie continued. “Find something to make you feel happy here, Ilaria. All work and no play will turn you into a very upset woman.”

Ilaria chuckled at that and sipped her coffee. Marie’s advice was heartfelt, but kind of crazy to take up right now. She was too tired.

“Ayu?” she asked.

“Not back yet,” Marie said.

“My Cucciolo?”

“Upstairs,” Marie smiled wide when she answered. “Rory Morgan is with him. Unlike you who has forgotten the beauty of love, your bambino is reveling in it.”

Ilaria’s gaze widened at the idea of Milan in love. He was so young.

“Don’t get that look,” Marie pushed off the counter. “Now is the time for him to fall in love and make mistakes.”

“He is not even seventeen yet,” Ilaria protested.

“He will be soon. Milan is young, and his heart needs it,” Marie said with a grin. “How else can he find himself without love and possible heartbreak?”

Ilaria placed her mug on the counter, and shook her head.

“Not my Milan, he has too much to deal with already. I’ll go upstairs and check on them.”

“Can’t stop the tide,” Marie called after her.

Ilaria decided she would surely try. Removing her hairband, she ran fingers through her hair as she went upstairs to the third floor. Her hair stunk of sweat. Her scrubs felt itchy against her skin. She needed a hot shower, and a change of clothes.

Dropping her hands down, she paused at the entrance into Milan’s room, her gaze riveted on Milan’s bed.

Rory was reclined on Milan’s bed, pillows behind his back, his eyes closed in rest. In his arms was her Milan, head on Rory’s chest, arms flung over Rory, deep asleep.

The afternoon sun filled the room.

Ilaria stood rooted at the door, unable to take a step forward, or back. It was the first time she had seen Milan trust anyone outside the family. Trust a stranger enough to allow himself the freedom of sleep.

She felt at a loss for action.

***

It took Ilaria ten minutes to move from the door. She walked back into the corridor, her steps heavy as she went downstairs to the second floor where the master bedroom was. Rory heard her close her door and opened his eyes to look at Milan.

His mate lived a protected life. Having Milan sleep in his arms felt like an accomplishment. It had taken so much work just to get to this point. Rory swept dark hair back from Milan’s forehead with his left hand, and his gaze fell on the bracelet he wore.

Three leaves to go, he wondered how they were going drop off. This time, Milan had given him the secret of his illness.

“I wonder what you’ll think of my secret,” he murmured, tracing Milan’s bottom lip with his thumb.

Milan shifted closer, rubbing his cheek against Rory’s chest. He took in a deep breath and continued sleeping undisturbed, making Rory grin.

Rory adjusted his shoulders on the pillows to get comfortable. Using his left hand to push up, he frowned when he touched something hard hiding under the covers. Pushing back the grey comforter, he found an A5 drawing book. Making sure Milan slept on, he lifted the book and turned it open.

Rory finally found the art he had searched for in Milan’s drawing books for days.

First, there was a drawing of a wolf standing at the edge of the forest. His wolf as Milan remembered from their first meeting. The next few pages were filled with more drawings of the white wolf: standing on a rock with the full moon as the background, howling at a starry night, then one of the white wolf sleeping curled into a ball. Rory traced the wolf, then turned the page and sucked in air when he saw himself.

No longer just his eyes, but profiles of his face in the cafeteria, sitting on the couch in Milan’s living room. His favorite was a scene from a day he played basketball with Ayu last week. Milan had drawn him jumping up to throw the ball into the basket in the Takeda driveway.

Closing the book, Rory pushed the drawing book back into its hiding spot elated by the thought of Milan more than thinking of him.

***

“Do you have to go?” Milan asked, much later when they both woke up from a satisfying afternoon nap.

Rory wished he didn’t have to leave, but it was evening, and he had a patrol shift in thirty minutes. Before that, he wanted to see if he could follow Ilaria to Kiyo’s lab, and find a way inside. He had heard Ilaria preparing to take food and a change of clothes for Kiyo.

“I’ll come back tomorrow,” Rory said, watching Milan swivel his desk chair. “It’s Sunday. Do you think your mom will let me take you out for a drive? If the weather is nice.”

Milan smiled.

“I’ll convince her. Where would we go?”

“I can show you around Portento,” Rory said. “We can have Marie make us a picnic basket, so that your mom doesn’t worry about you getting sick eating food from outside.”

Milan nodded, looking excited about it already. He picked up a chain from his desk, and twirled it around on his finger.

“A drive around town sounds good to me,” Milan said. “It will be nice to get out for a few hours. I’ll talk to her when she comes back.”

Rory smiled and walked to Milan taking the chain and lifting it up to see it had a little silver wolf hanging on it.

“Can I have this?” Rory asked, wanting something that belonged to Milan with him.

“Why?” Milan asked, getting up and reaching for it.

Rory lifted his hand higher, keeping it out of reach.

“Because,” Rory said, grinning when Milan got on his tip toes, hoping to reach for the chain.

Rory held it up even higher, enjoying the little frown of concentration on Milan’s forehead. Rory stepped back, and Milan dropped down with a scowl.

“Shouldn’t you wait until I give it to you?” Milan demanded, taking a step closer.

“But I want something of yours,” Rory said, shaking the chain. “This is good enough.”

“Rory.”

“Milan.”

Milan laughed, and then stepped into Rory personal space surprising him.

Rory stood still when Milan simply looked at him for a full minute. Then Milan placed his hands on Rory’s shoulders and seemed to climb him like a tree until his legs were wrapped around Rory’s waist.

Milan clung to him like a monkey.

Rory brought his free hand around Milan to hold him steady, dirty thoughts filling his head at how close they were. Milan’s scent filled him up and Rory wondered what Milan would say if he turned and pressed him to the bed.

Milan giggled and Rory raised his right hand higher when Milan reached for the chain still.

“You’re being stubborn,” Milan complained, wrapping his right arm around Rory’s shoulders to keep steady.

“If this is what it gets me, I think I’ll keep to it,” Rory said, unable to keep out the seductive tone in his voice. Holding Milan was intoxicating.

Milan looked down at him, and for a second they both seemed to hold their breaths. Then, Milan leaned down and kissed Rory. His lips covering Rory’s in a full kiss that had Rory tightening his hold around Milan.

“Got it,” Milan said a minute later, triumphant as he had managed to distract Rory enough to get the chain back.

Rory pressed his forehead into Milan’s shoulder, using both his hands to hold Milan in place.

“You’re a minx,” Rory accused when Milan chuckled.

Milan rested his arms on Rory’s shoulders.

“You’re very strong, holding me up this way. Ayu can’t manage for too long.”

“I work out a lot more,” Rory said, shifting to keep his balance as Milan settled into him. He wasn’t about to admit that his real form made him stronger than your average man.

“Won’t you give me something of yours to keep until tomorrow? I miss you when we’re apart.”

Brown eyes filled with awe at that confession.

“What about me?” Milan asked, his right hand touching the dark stubble on Rory’s jaw, tracing it to his chin. The simple caress leaving delicious thrills in its wake. “What do I get of yours?”

“Anything you want,” Rory said, meaning it.

“Anything?”

“Anything,” Rory said.

“I want you to stay,” Milan murmured.

“You know I want to stay,” Rory said, tightening his arms around Milan, shifting in a rocking motion. “I can try to come back later, but I don’t think your mom will let me in.”

Milan sighed.

“Fine, what about the bracelet you wear. It’s cool.”

Rory brought his left hand up and Milan tried to remove the wood bracelet, but it wouldn’t come off.

“Wow,” Milan studied it for a moment. “It doesn’t even have a clasp. How did you get it on?”

“The usual way,” Rory said, also surprised. He had thought he could take it off.

“Hm.” Milan frowned. “I guess I’m keeping the chain at this rate.”

“Check my neck,” Rory said.

Milan touched the collar of Rory’s t-shirt and saw a leather string tied around his neck. Pulling at it slowly, Rory watched Milan as he discovered the amulet Rory had worn on a whim this morning.

A round bronze talisman with ancient etchings. A gift from his mother. She had given it to him for protection. Now, Rory knew why he wore it. He wanted it around Milan, to protect him.

“It’s gorgeous and looks valuable.” Milan touched the amulet. “I can’t take this, Rory.”

“I want you to have it.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

Milan started to jump off but Rory stopped him, unwilling to let go just yet. So, Milan concentrated on fitting his chain with the silver wolf around Rory’s neck, then carefully removed Rory's amulet, wearing it around his own neck.

“Happy?” Rory asked, when Milan leaned back admiring the round talisman resting on his chest.

“Very,” Milan said, bringing his attention back to Rory. “Thank you.”

“Thank you, Milan, for existing,” Rory said, kissing Milan’s cheek, then his lips.

They stood for a long moment in Milan’s bedroom, lips locked in a delicious kiss that Rory would remember later and want more.

***