He did miss him. Sin missed their conversations, his smiles, his very presence.
“Yes, I miss him,” he admitted softly. “But it doesn’t seem to matter now. Cecil refuses to even look at me. I tried, Roth, really I did. Each time I brought him his meals, he avoided my eyes. He ignored my words.”
“It seems it’s time for some tough love.”
“I would never?—”
“Nae like that,” Roth snorted. “I meant…” Roth trailed off. Something behind Sin had drawn his attention.
Roth’s eyebrows rose in surprise. Peering behind the back of his chair, Sin noticed that Benji was smiling at them. It was…odd. Benji usually showed nothing but anger toward the large man.
And continuing down the path of bizarre, Benji crooked his finger atRoth.
Sighing into his pillow, Cecil rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. Over the last two weeks of his self-imposed seclusion, he had wondered how long it had taken someone to carve such realistic vines. Cecil had also wondered who would put that much effort into designing a single bedroom.
Not that it really mattered, but he’d had a lot of time to himself, so it was either think about why he had locked himself away, or think about random shit that didn’t really matter.
Cecil had, of course, chosen random shit. At least, he had attempted to, but his mind kept wandering to the kiss. Mostly focusing on how he had fucked everything up.
Oh, and because it was probably the last thing he should be thinking about, Cecil also kept remembering how soft Sin’s lips had been. Something he had no right to know.
Of course, not thinking about all that wouldn’t have changed anything. The jig was up. Now he would have to deal with awkwardness and more obvious lies.
But, if Cecil was being truthful, he was starting to believe that he was wrong about many things. That he was wrong about the people here, and that maybe he could trust them. Which would just make the fact that he had fucked everything up even worse.
Cecil snorted—leave it to him to screw up a good thing before he actually figured out itwasa good thing. How stupid was it that it took being away from all of them torealize that they weren’t lying? Well, theyprobablyweren’t lying.
Cecil was about 80 percent sure that they were telling the truth. If he was wrong, he’d find out eventually.
Oh fuck, what was he going to do about Sin? It was not like he could stay in here forever… Wait, wasn’t Sin going back to the other branch? Cecil didn’t want him to go…
No, I do want him to go, Cecil scolded himself. Sin leaving would fix everything, he was sure. Maybe…
Tugging on his hair, he growled. Ugh, what was wrong with him?
There were too many thoughts in his head. He couldn’t focus. Or more like Cecil couldn’t decide what he wanted.
There was one thing he did know… Cecil knew he wanted to go to the party tonight. He had never been to one, and for once, he wanted to do something that ordinary people did.
But he couldn’t do that because Sin would be there, and would want to talk. Sin would then tell Cecil, probably in the nicest way possible, that he didn’t want him. Cecil wouldn’t even be able to blame him. Who would want someone like him?
He wanted Sin. He liked the man. And that sucked. It was also a bit distressing because he had never wanted anyone. Not sexually, that is.
Finding out that men, at all levels of society, were pigs ruined that for him. And those at school were too unscathed for Cecil to find them attractive. Oh, and he wasn’t attracted to women…though, for some reason, Cecil did find boobs fascinating. They just looked so soft—like pillows.
Cecil rolled his eyes—yep, too many thoughts in his head. He needed…needed to…
Pulse quickening, his mouth went dry and his gaze slid to the knife on his dresser. It laid on its leather home, positioned exactly as it had been two weeks ago.
Cecil hadn’t used it that day—he hadn’t allowed himself to even touch it. Because at that moment, he had felt like he had needed it. And he refused to need anything that much.
So the knife remained there, out in the open. Cecil had left it there to prove a point to himself. That he was stronger than whatever urge he’d developed. His fear of being so dependent on something like that was stronger than that urge.
And he was afraid, then and now. Because the longer he stared, the more he wanted it. Worse, he was beginning to wonder if it was Drop he wanted or the pain that came with slicing through his skin.
Cecil was startled out of his thoughts by a knock on the door. “Fuck,” Cecil growled. Heart pounding, he tried to stop his hands from shaking. Freaking out about a knock, how dumb was that?!
He hopped off the bed and answered the door. Standing behind it was Roth. It was a bit amusing that if Roth had wanted to come in, he’d have to duck or his head would hit the doorframe.
