A word is a word. He has kept his.
Whatever happens, we’ll always have each other.
Snapping out of my reverie, I ask, “What are you doing here?”
He rakes a hand through his hair, looking disheveled. “Your brother asked me to stay here until they return.”
I stumble back, the news making me trip on my feet, but he’s there to catch me.
“You can’t,” I whisper, the anguish clear in my voice.
I can’t be held accountable. We need distance, time apart, to pull off this farce we have kept going on for four years.
A muscle in his jaw twitches. “I have to.”
There is more behind his words—a secret message only I can decode.
As our eyes lock, time and space distort. It’s only him and me, connecting on a soul-deep level. Nothing else exists but us. I could spend eternity just like this, unbothered by cruel reality—he and I, and nothing else between us.
Just as he does every time, he breaks eye contact, severing the bond. “Do you have something else to tell me?”
“I’m not sorry for last night,” I say haughtily.
“You’re going to be the death of me,” he groans low, and my stomach flutters at his deep voice.
It takes everything in me not to smile. Instead, I pretend I didn’t hear him, loving to mess with him.
“What was that?” I ask playfully.
He pins me with an unamused gaze. “You’re a brat.”
“Sure.” I shrug. “But I am your brat.” The words rush out of me.
For a moment, everything stills. My heart thumping wildly in my chest is the only sound penetrating the silence. That’s why proximity is dangerous. I am prone to slipping if my brother is not around.
I suck in a breath, and he shuts his eyes, but not before I see the gleam of desire there.
I know he’s rough. I know he’s a beast who lets loose while fucking. That fact doesn’t fit with his impression of my willowy, flowery self, which he always treats like something fragile, easily breakable.
He’s a master at control, leaving me wondering if I imagine those rare moments when I crack it.
His eyes take on a dangerous edge. “Dahlia…”
He raises his hand and cups the base of my neck, heating the sensitive skin he touches. A bout of dizziness overcomes me. I may faint at any moment now.
Licking my lips, I stay perfectly still, hoping and praying for something when my mother calls my name. His eyes clear of that violent storm I wanted to feel unleashed on me, and I sigh.
Why do you hate me, God?
Not even a second later, he yanks his hand away and storms down the hallway, leaving me wanton and starved for his crumbs.
I sulk the entire way to the dining room but plaster a fake smile when I drop into the seat next to my mother. Mika sits at the head of the table. It’s a clear sign that in my brother’s absence, he’s in charge of the family.
“Did you sleep well?” Mom asks him.
He glances at me, his eyes twitching. It’s only fair that if I lose sleep over him, he should too, only for guilt to strike my chest. One mistake in the world he rules can mean the difference between life and death.
“I will—” I don’t even know what I want to say. Behave, so he won’t worry. That would be a lie, so I keep silent.
