I let him pull me forward, practically collapsing into his arms in an ungainly tumble from the chair to the floor.

I half expect the moment to shatter. Half expect to wake up alone in a cold bed. To wrap my arms around his neck and find that he's less solid than I expect him to be. Just a ghost of the person I want him to be.

But I settle with my arms around him, my face in the crook of his neck, and the moment's so real, so sharp, I almost can't breathe.

"God," I gasp, choking on another sob of breath, holding tight enough to him that my knuckles have gone white.