Free Brave (Healer) by April Smyth

Oliver has never felt the highs of love but I can’t feel sorry for him when he has never had to feel the lows.
                  ‘You’re supposed to kiss me now,’ he says with a cheeky smile and I am taken aback. We have been avoiding this for days! Even when we laid together on that cramped single bed in the cabin out the back we managed to keep it innocent. Why is he ruining this now?
                  ‘What?’
                  ‘I’m kidding, Cassie!’ he chortles.
                  ‘Not funny!’ I slap his chest playfully. My heartbeat has tripled in speed and I feel like it’s working so hard that it might be able to burst through the thick membrane of my body and start beating rapidly on the bed. I press my hand against my chest to keep my heart in place. Wow, I really am regretting that kiss now.
                  ‘Don’t look so serious,’ he says. It’s easy for him to say. He’s not in love and never has been. To him, this is harmless but every time he flirts with me, licks his lips, looks at me with those hungry eyes, whenever I think of ravishing that amazing sculpted body of his, I am being dragged in all directions. My heart is being tugged by a magnetic force towards Gabe wherever he is in the world and it kills me to know that I am capable of feeling the way I do about Oliver. His smile fades as he realises my genuine frustration. This isn’t a game anymore.
                  I turn away from his face now because I am suddenly aware of how overtly intimate it is that we are lying on his bed together. I’m intensely conscious of our fingertips which are almost touching and I’m scared to look into his eyes again because I know one more gaze could make or break this thing.
                  ‘You don’t have to be so scared around me, Cassie, you can be yourself...’ He says it quietly as if he is trying to disguise the hidden meaning of his words. He knows what I am afraid of, how can he tell me not to be scared? Everybody I love is in grave danger because of me and all I can think about is a night of passion with this, albeit crazily good looking, sweet and funny, guy. That is terrifying. I am being consumed by this lust and the last time I let that animalistic desire in my gut get the better of me, well, that’s how I ended up here in the first place.
                  The awkward silence and my obvious avoidance of him perturbs Oliver. He nudges me again and even the simple action of his knuckles skimming my back makes me shiver. Sometimes you want someone so badly you can feel it all over your body, even in your elbows and right now I can feel it in my elbows a lot.
                  ‘I’m not that bad, am I?’ he says.
                  I don’t reply. I curl up tightly, putting my knees under my chin, and am glad I’m facing away so he can’t see my face and, in turn, the lone tear trickle down my cheek. I am so done with crying. Is it really that bad that I want some relief from all this pain? Is feeling Oliver’s lips on my skin really such a horrible thing to want when I have been to Hell and back this year?
                  ‘Hey you,’ he nudges my back. ‘Come on, what’s up?’
                  ‘Drop it Oliver,’ my voice is muffled. I want him desperately to curb the growling appetite I have, to stop the tears and the pain, and that same desire makes me want to run to my own bed where I can shove my face into my pillow and scream like I always do when life gets too much to bear. It is a vicious cycle of lust then guilt and I need it to end somehow.
                  He tugs at my shoulder and uses his effortless strength to flip me over so our noses are touching again. ‘Hey,’ he says with intense eyes. His breath is warm against my face. I drop my gaze to avoid his burning eyes but find myself more distracted by the