Corvus clears his throat. “May we talk?”
One of the teens in identical puffer jackets whistles in response, as if all this was only a performance for someone else’s enjoyment.
I stub out my cigarette on the windowsill. I let too much cold into my apartment already. “We have nothing to talk about!”
I should feel satisfaction when he blinks, face tensing with hurt, but it only makes me more bitter.
“I panicked, okay? Please, let me explain—”
“Not okay! That was not the first time you treated me like shit! Just send me a link to your Spotify next time.” I wish I didn’t crave his closeness, but how long can I be a doormat to a guy who simply wants to get railed hard, like all the others before him? I need to learn some damn self-respect.
“Dalton, what do you want me to—”
“Shut the hell up!” screeches the rude older lady living in the apartment above mine. She opens her window, and when I peek up, she’s glaring at me from behind thick pink glasses.
The fact that her disrespect of Corvus makes me even angrier is yet another proof I need to rethink my life.
“Iwantyou to go away.” I don’t. I want to fall asleep with my face against his neck and make sure no one ever hurts him.
“I said—” the upstairs neighbor starts, but another giggles on the other side of the alleyway.
“No, no! I want to hear everything.”
This is the last thing I need.
Corvus steps closer to the brick facade of my apartment building and places one hand on the rough surface, gaze reaching out for me like the music had. “Dalton, I think... I think I love you too,” he calls out. By this point, the teens have crossed the street, and they all clap and cheer, making Corvus flinch.
“Oh, come on,Dalton,” one of the girls teases. “Don’t make the poor guy beg!”
It's like a punch to the gut. Is he joking right now? Is he trying to flay my heart and salt it too? Does he have any idea how powerless I am against him?
Whatever’s going on with him, Corvus isn’t one for public humiliation. He could have just come to my door, or snapped his fingers and had Van der Horn goons drag me back to his place. If he’s doingthisinstead, I know deep down that it’s to prove himself to me.
What changed his mind? Curiosity killed the cat, yet here I am, not closing the window.
“Youthinkyou love me?” I push, even though it’s cruel to do in front of our audience. He deserves it for last night. The butterflies still flutter inside at the mere mention of Corvus’s feelings for me.
He steps back again, so we can see each other better. The lady above me shuts the window with a snarl, but neither of us cares. “I never felt this way about anyone,” Corvus shouts, his cheeks pink with the embarrassment of being so vulnerable in public.
And here I am, falling into his clutches again. I’m doing this to myself at this point.
“Come up, let’s talk,” I say with a groan, pointing out the emergency stairs.
The woman on the other side laughs. “Woo! When’s the wedding?”
It would be funny if this topic wasn’t such a thorn in my side, so I don’t answer, but Corvus does, like the stranger has any right to this kind of information.
“Next weekend,” he says, tucking his violin back into its case.
He doesn’t question whether he should go to the door on the other side of the building, and instead jumps on the dumpster, then climbs to the fire escape as if he can’t wait to be at my side. I back away from the window to make room for him, but I’m suddenly faced with the reality of my shitty apartment.
I shouldn’t care. He’s the one who came here to grovel, but I still stuff some trash under the sink. He’s used to opulence and luxury, not whatever you’d call my pigsty.
Eachthumpof shoes on metal has me working faster, but by the time Corvus stands right outside my open window, the remains of this morning’s fast food meal are still on my sticky kitchen counter, and the used tissues are piled up on the floor by the TV. Because yes, I cried last night.
And instead of entering, like a normal person, Corvus decides to knock on the glass that has bird shit splattered on one side, because I haven’t bothered to clean it up since I arrived.
“Just come in! Jesus!” I rub my face, standing helplessly in the middle of this mess. I guess now he’ll see I’m even more of a fuckup than he’s already thought.
