I barely remember what happened last night after I left the warehouse, but judging by how much my face hurts when I wake up and how every breath sends a stabbing pain through my chest, I either fell stupidly or took a pretty nasty beating. Since I usually don’t trip over my own feet and can still remember the fight from the evening, I probably just let myself get beat up afterward.
But I deserved it. Just like the guilt that sets in as soon as I realize that Sophie isn’t just lying in my bed. No. I’ve wrapped my arm around her and am pressing her against my chest as if I’m afraid she’ll vanish into thin air.
Ah, fuck…
I don’t understand why she’s still here. Of course she wouldn’tjust leave. After all, she knows by now how stupid that would be. But for her to lie next to me and allow me to hold her like this… God has to be quite a sadist because this is pure torture. It’s sheer agony to feel her delicate body so close to mine. To know that despite everything I’ve said and done, she doesn’t hate me. To feel her fingers clutch the fabric of my shirt as if I, of all people, could give her support. Almost as if she needed me.
I ignore the fact that it could be just like that and silence that quiet voice that wants me to believe that it’s the same the other way around.
I don’t need anyone. And even more so, no one should need me.
Carefully, I free my shirt from her grip and get up to go to the bathroom.
My face looks as if someone had mistaken it for a punching bag. As I run my tongue over the cut on my lip, I can’t help but instantly think of Sophie and the kiss. Of how she returned it and clung to me. How she moaned faintly into my mouth. How her soft lips moved tentatively against mine, and her taste clouded my brain more than the damn whiskey ever could.
The hatred against myself instantly grows even more.
Goddamn… That was her first kiss. And she had to get it from a bastard like me, of all people. I had wished so much that her first kiss would be something special. That it would be full of feeling and, above all, full of love. That it wouldmeansomething.
Since none of that can apply to this kiss, I turn away and head for the shower because I can’t even look at myself anymore.
When I come out of the bathroom, Sophie is sitting upright in my bed with the blanket wrapped around her body, looking at me with her big amber eyes. There is confusion, uncertainty, and fear in her gaze, but I can’t make out what’s going on inside her.
When her soft voice echoes through the room, I hate myself even more. "Are you okay?"
How?How can she ask me that after what I did? How can she want to know how I am after seeing me beat a man? After I yelled at her? After I told her to leave and then kissed her?
Closing my eyes briefly, I take a deep breath before walking over to the bed and sitting down on the corner farthest away from her. As I do so, I feel her gaze on me, but I don’t dare look at her.
"I’m sorry about what happened yesterday." While I speak, I ignore the tugging in my chest.
Sophie is silent for a few seconds before uttering two words that feel like she’s ramming a dagger into my back. "About everything?"
"Yes. About everything." My voice sounds fucking wrong, but I force myself to keep talking. "I shouldn’t have done that. It was wrong to kiss you. I just… I’m sorry."
The silence that settles over us afterward nearly crushes me. I wait for Sophie to yell at me. To cry and rage or throw at me that I’m a heartless asshole, which would be nothing but the truth. Instead, she says something that would knock the ground out from under my feet if I weren’t already sitting.
"How can you say something like that?"
I turn to her slowly because I can’t believe what she asked.
She’s still sitting upright and looking at me, but I hardly recognize her. Her gaze is open and clear, and where I would have expected tears or anger, I see a determination that almost frightens me.
"To me, it didn’t feel wrong," she says when I still haven’t managed to get a word out after a few moments. But before I even have the chance to form a clear thought, she continues talking. "In fact, nothing has ever felt so right to me."
"Sophie…"
"No. I don’t accept that," she says firmly, getting to her feet and standing tall in front of me. "I don’t accept you saying that. I can tell you don’t mean it."
I stare at her in disbelief. "You don’tacceptit?"
"No. You can’t tell me to go, kiss me, and then say it was wrong."
She’s got to be kidding me, right?
I want to protest, but Sophie cuts me off again.
"I know I don’t have a clue about any of this. And yes, that was my first kiss. But when you say it was wrong, it sounds like it didn’t mean anything to you. And I don’t believe that." A tremble lingers in her voice as the first tears well up in her eyes.
