“Don’t apologize,” he cuts in, a familiar edge to his voice. He pulls his hands away and covers his face, muffling a few curse words. Then he shakes his head. “You shouldn’t apologize. Nothing is your fault. It’s me. It’s that I just can’t—”
He stops himself, and I can actually see him trembling now. I reach out toward him, wanting to comfort him, but he shakes his head again and shrinks back away from me.
“I’m... I’m doing that stupid thing where I start to get anxious and then angry,” he mumbles. “And Ireallydon’t want to snap at you, because that’s not fair to you. I don’t know how to stop it, though. I want to stop it. I want itallto just fucking stop. I—fucking hell, I hate this.”
He moves suddenly, pushing away from the wall and scrambling past me off the bed. I twist around, watching as he heads straight for the door, his shoulders hunched and his whole body stiff.
“Nico, wait, wait. Please,” I call out, jumping to my feet. Istumble after him as he throws the door open and starts toward the stairs.
God, this wasn’t what I wanted. Not at all.
While I’m pretty sure he knows that, at least on some level, I also know he’s not able to really think straight when he gets like this. Which is why I can’t let him just retreat this time. Something feels different, too. More urgent.
I make it through the doorway just in time to see him pause at the top of the stairs, and I hurry over and stop at his side, facing him. He’s staring down the narrow stairway, darkness passing over his face. For a second, I track his gaze down the steep flight of wooden steps that disappear into blackness, and my stomach drops.
“I want itallto just fucking stop.”
No. No, he’snotthinking what my brain is telling me he’s thinking. He wouldn’t think that. He wouldn’t... he wouldn’tdothat.
Would he?
In an instant, my hand shoots out, my palm flattening right against the middle of his chest.
I’m wrong.I have to be.But something tells me that I can’t just ignore this.
I press my hand into his chest harder, and he lifts his eyes to look at me. He hasn’t really been crying, but his eyes look red and puffy in the dim light of the hallway. I shake my head gently.
“Nico, don’t...” I hesitate, fear rattling me, taking my voice. “Please,” I force out, and I physically push him back a step. “Pleasedon’t.”
He narrows his eyes at me for a second, and I can almost feel the moment his simmering anger starts to fade. Then, with a sharp breath, he backs up another step. “I-I wasn’t going to.”
I nod and step in front of him, though I can’t seem to get myselfto breathe right. “Please don’t, ever,” I whisper, my voice now hoarse and rough with emotion. The fact that he knew what I was thinking suggestshewasthinking about it, too. And maybe that’s what has me shaking now. I slip my arms carefully around his waist, and he doesn’t object as I pull him up against me. “Please don’t, ever.”
On my repeated words, his whole body shudders, and he collapses into me, shivering and shaking his head and mumbling something else I can’t understand.
I’m really not sure what just happened—whether his mindreallywent to the place I think it did—but I hope to hell I never see that look in his eyes ever, ever again.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Nico
Alexholdsmeinthe hallway for several minutes, and then he gently turns me around and guides me back to his room. I’m feeling numb. Maybe. And in a way, that’s much better than whatever the fuck just happened out there.
He talks quietly to me, soft words that soothe the uncertainty still buzzing around in my head. He doesn’t say he’s sorry again, but I can hear the apology and regret in his voice anyway, like a heavy guilt he’s carrying. Like it’s his fault I stopped at the top of the stairs, bombarded by the sudden thought of how throwing myself down them would be a good way to just be...done.
Fuck, I’m more broken than I thought I was.
Once I’m safely back in bed, tucked under the covers, Alex disappears, returning less than a minute later with a glass of water. He helps me drink, then sets the glass down on the nightstand, crawls into bed, and carefully gathers me back up in his arms.
“I wasn’t going to,” I repeat for him, and for me.
I really wasn’t. It really was just a fleeting thought. Brought on by my anxiety or whatever.
With a frown, I close my eyes and rest my head against his chest, my hand flat on his stomach. His hand comes up to cover mine, and I feel him breathe a kiss into my hair. There’s a tiny flicker ofwarmth that comes with it, but it’s just a fraction of what I felt earlier.
“I didn’t mean to upset you,” he says softly, though I can hear the pain and guilt in his voice. And I hate that.
“It’s not your fault.” I shake my head. “It’sme. It’s always me. You were just trying to talk. I shouldn’t have gotten so upset. I’m sorry. A-and I...” I’m so tired, and my words fizzle out as I sigh and bury my head in his chest. “I just want to sleep now.”
