This is about possession, about connection, and my lips find her ear, whispering, “You’re mine, Snowflake. Only mine.”
She comes again, muscles fluttering around me with a shuddering release that pulls me over the edge with her, my cum filling her as my teeth sink into the side of her neck, claiming her inside and out.
For moments after, we stay locked in position. My forehead rests against her back, breathing in her scent, panting in the clinical light.
Then I withdraw and turn her so she’s facing me. Her eyes are dazed but the same distrust I’ve seen in them since Monday lingers there. A shadow I still need to erase.
I fix myself then help her adjust her dress, fluffing out the gossamer fabric so it falls correctly. Making sure the front clasp is secure, untwisting the straps so they lie flat atop her shoulders.
She smooths the skirt with trembling hands. “This doesn’t change anything. We’re still not together.” Her voice is soft but firm.
A haunted expression flickers in her eyes, there and gone, then she pushes past me, unfolding her cane again before the pneumatic door closes off my view.
My breath is uneven, ragged with exertion. I splash some water on my face, finger combing it through my hair, then exit in her footsteps. Rather than head back inside the main hall, I step through the rear exit.
Thin drizzle turns the asphalt reflective, lights sparkling like gemstones from the dark surface.
There are other students out here, some braving the light rain to puff on vapes or cigarettes, others kissing, swapping pills from tongue to tongue.
The light rain is refreshing, and I stay outside for a minute longer, different concerns turning in my head. Ophelia doesn’t trust me and I can’t blame her. My thoughtlessness over the camera left her exposed.
I can’t alter my nature, but I can do better than I have until now. I can show her no one else in the world matters more. I can put control of my life into her hands and accept the consequences.
I inhale a long breath, fragments of smoke and vapour mixing with the scent of rain on warm concrete.
My eyes close, searching for the emptiness that dominated my life until a month ago. There’s nothing left of it but the memory, and I open my eyes and head inside, ready to fight for my girl the only way I can think how.
Hoping it’s not too late.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
OPHELIA
I takea sip of wine then can’t swallow, swishing it around my mouth while my throat stays locked tight. From this distance, I can barely make out the doorway leading to the bathrooms, but my eyes are fixed in that direction, waiting for Damien.
“Ophelia?” Basil nudges me. “You okay?”
“Sorry.” I blink, forcing my attention back on the boy beside me. “Just thinking about”—my mind casts around for the last words I remember—“swim times. That’s an impressive improvement.”
He grins. A boy who loves swimming with an uncomplicated passion. His simpleness is refreshing.
“I’m so glad I met you,” he says. “You’re way more interesting than anyone else I could’ve asked.”
The honesty in his voice makes me flinch.
A dark shadow advances towards the table and Basil’s unease is palpable. Damien clears his throat when he’s a metre away, touching my shoulder lightly as he takes the empty place next to mine. “Hey, it’s me.”
“Oh, hey.” Basil half rises from his chair, extending his hand.
“You can go.” Damien’s voice is implacable. “Chelsea’s been and gone. Her prank for the evening got redirected.”
“Uh, yeah. That’s great news. But, I—”
“Go.” Damien makes a shooing gesture with his hands.
Basil radiates unease, and his hand clutches the back of my chair.
“It’s fine,” I say.
