His tongue slid against mine. I moved closer, climbed on top of him, the heat of his skin burning through mine. His fingers brushed from my neck down my spine, leaving shivers on my skin.
“I want everything with you,” I whispered, my lips still against his. “But I do have one favor to ask.”
He rolled his eyes. “Do I even want to know?”
I smiled faintly and touched his lips, tracing the scar on the right side.
“I want to see Carlo,” I said. “I want to know he’s okay.”
He stared at me, his expression darkening. “You keep giving everything to people who don’t give two shits about you,” he said, locking his eyes to mine. “You love everyone so unconditionally, but you never get it back.”His hand cupped my cheek. “Why?”
“That’s all I know,” I said softly. “It makes me feel good… I think.”
He sighed, thumb brushing away a tear I hadn’t realized had fallen.
“That’s not good enough,” he whispered. “You can’t keep emptying yourself into people who don’t even notice you’re running dry.”
I swallowed hard, forcing a smile that trembled.
“If I stop giving, then what am I left with?” My voice cracked. “If I stop caring, I’ll become them.”
“Sometime soon you’ll understand,” he said. “When you care less, they care more. When you care more, they care less.”He paused, exhaling. “Point is, at the end of the day, the only person left is you.”
“Who broke you?” I whispered.
“The whole world did,” he breathed against my lips.
“Would you let me heal you?” I asked, another tear slipping free.
“You already did, Doll,” he murmured, kissing my forehead.
He sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “If it’ll make you feel better, go home. Talk to Carlo.” He stood, pulling on his pants. “But you have to know he had those euros on him when I took you. The little shit could’ve stopped me, but he didn’t say a word.”
A tear slid down my cheek as he turned away.
Then he looked back, smirking, kneeling beside the bed again. He wiped the tear with his thumb.
“But come back by midnight,” he said softly. “You belong here.”
I nodded.
“With me,” he whispered.
I smiled.
“Promise?” he asked.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him back to the bed.
“I promise.”
Maybe he is all I ever needed. Maybe God had a better plan for me.
XVIII. DOLL
Iwasbackinmy jeans and black top, wearing his leather jacket as the night suddenly became even colder. On the back was writtenHouse of Clownswith a splash of red, green, and orange, and a clown in the middle.
He let me go with a promise that I would be back. I didn’t promise it because I had nowhere to go anymore. I did it because he had become my home. In a short time, he became what I needed and what I wanted all along.
