Maybe I should stab him now.
How does he know my favourite movie?
“You’re psychotic. We aren’t hanging out, so why don’t you just tell me what you want from me, torture me, and do whatever else so it can be over?”
“I would never hurt you. And believe it or not, I’m actually trying to better myself for you.”
I laugh because that’s hilarious, but then he throws his wrist in my face.
I stare, clearly confused, trying to make sense of the tight black rubber band wrapped around his skin.
He snaps it sharply, the sting echoing in the quiet room.
I blink with utter bewilderment on my face. “What are you doing?”
“Ivan suggested I use this to control my anger with you. I will sting my arm so I won’t yell and will be able to give you some of the control I know you want.”
I tuck my lips between my teeth, barely containing my laughter, but he’s being so serious I’m trying to follow his thought process here.
Because are you telling me the same man who keeps shooting people now fights his temper with…a friendship bracelet?
“Okay… and you think that’ll change something.”
“It works,” he insists, snapping it again. “See? Calm.”
He looks the opposite of calm. He looks like a pissed-off cat who touched a bathtub.
“I want you to want me, Aurelia. You trusted me once. Why can’t you do it again?”
“You know I wouldn’t have if I knew who you were.”
“You know, Aurelia, I don’t even think you believe that.” He comes closer to me on the bed, his body overpowering mine in every way. “I think you wanted the danger, the freedom, the lack of certainty. And I think you like it now.”
I take in a breath; his closeness is too much for me. “No.”
His lips hover over mine. “You love that for once you are with someone who matches your rank, your strength, your passion, your control, and your desire to be free.”
“No,” I whisper.
“Elijah, even in the moments he cared for you, couldn’t make your heart beat this fast.” His hand lands on my chest. “If you let me, I could show you both the power of control and submission.”
“Nikolai…” I breathe, feigning admiration. “You might be as good a fuck as you think you are, and everything you’re saying might be true. But I will never love you, I will never care about you. Where your hand is”—I bring mine over top, hovering over my heart—“you will never have it.”
He leans back, frustrated.
“Sit and watch the movie, Aurelia.”
He moves to sit behind me, annoyed and just as bossy as usual.
Thensnap.
The rubber band cracks against his wrist again. A sharp, clean sting that cuts through the room. He does it almost violently, like he’s punishing himself for reacting to me, for wanting me, for losing control even a little.
Another snap.
He’s trying so hard, and it’s… ridiculous. Ridiculous enough that heat swells behind my ribs, rising in my throat in a laugh I can’t let him see.
I press my lips together. Hard.
