“I’m not making any sense.”
He closes the tiny gap between us, his hand cupping my face. “Your heart is so pure. So good.” He swallows. “But there’s no good left in me. Not enough.”
I lean into his touch, my eyes fluttering closed. “There’s more than enough. You are everything that is good for me. I feel it in here.” I place a hand on my chest. “In my heart. In my soul.”
His neck muscle flexes. “I don’t have much to give.”
“I’m not asking for a lot. I’m just asking for some of your heart. Your mind. I want to know what used to make you smile.” I reach up, caressinghischeek. We do this a lot. Finding reasonsto touch each other. “Because I know your smile is beautiful even if I haven’t truly seen it.”
His eyes red over in emotion and before I know it, he takes my hand in his and pulls me with him. “Come on.”
We travel across to my apartment building and honestly, if I didn’t have a clue where he was taking me, it wouldn’t matter because I’d follow him anywhere.
TWENTY-SIX
Danika
My hand rests on the door to my bedroom, and I spin, keeping my back pressed against the wood. He’s so close yet he doesn’t try to move away. “It’s nothing impressive. Just the basics. You know, bed, dresser, closet, books. Nothing really. I don’t have a lot.” I know Liem’s seen my room before, but this is different. We’re not rushing out of here like it was set on fire.
He peers down at me, with his eyes so engaging. “Material things don’t matter. They don’t make you, you.”
He always has a way of making me feel less ugly. I nod then let out a breath. “Here we go.”
The door creaks open, and I move to the side, letting him go first.
He doesn’t scan around, nor does he act like he’s fishing for anything. Not even a curiosity. He does sit on my bed and the dark lavender comforter forms for him. “It suits you.”
“It’s dull and boring.”
“It’s not. It’s you. And you are never dull or boring,” he presses the words into me with a sternness, so I’ll really hear him.
“You seem to know me so well.”
“I do.” No hesitation, only confidence. “Come here.” He nods, crooking his finger.
My heart flutters as I obey his request, stepping closer. His hands find my waist as he gently finishes the remaining space, pulling me in between his large thighs.
My breathing is erratic. “Liem—”
“You said you want to know everything there is to know about me.”
With my mouth parted, I simply nod.
His hand runs down my body and then he pats the bed beside him for me to join. “You’re going to look at me differently.”
“Impossible.”
He tucks a strand behind my ear. “You’re so beautiful. Everything about you is light. Everything about me is the dark.”
“I’m not scared of the dark,” I tell him. “Not with you, not when you’re with me.”
His throat bobs in a swallow and he lays on his back, me following. He starts by telling me about his early childhood and how sometimes kids bullied him for his cultural background.
He didn’t know his father but saw how hard his mother had to work to keep food on the table. And that she battled depression his entire up bringing. My heart shatters when he tells me how she finally lost the battle. It was his last day of senior year, and he found her lying on the kitchen floor, a pill bottle in her opened hand. Even though some claim it’s selfish, Liem talks about his mother like she was the most selfless human being on the planet. But I can’t help but hold ill feelings toward her. For leaving him alone and never wanting to see her son again.
I rub circles on his hand as we lay there, our fingers interlocked.
“I loved her. And she did the best she could for us.”
