It affects more than my cunt.
And that scares the shit out of me.
I liked his prickly exterior. I liked the way he egged me on, made me competitive. I was excited to go whore out my milk for his clients, make us both heaps of money, then leave him in the dust.
The most obnoxious thing about this prick? He has the fucking audacity to be noble.
I need to be sure you want this.
Fuck him. Fuck him and his warm, gooey center.
Fuck him for making me feel loved.
Cherished.
Like there could be more to life than surviving.
Fuck him for making me want him, for making me want to stay, for making me think, even for a second, that maybe it’s okay if he proves me wrong.
Fuck him for making think it would be cute to see his smug little smile when he says,I told you so. Nobody ever leaves.
Tears well in my eyes. Because I know something about myself.
I know I’m stubborn enough to ruin this.
Sylvus pauses again. His deep voice rumbles next to my ear.
“I understand the purpose of your little charade, but… maybe it’s better if we talk.”
I freeze. Rub my nose and sniffle. “Okay.”
Sylvus takes me somewhere new.
I stay tucked against his chest and watch as he climbs through the cave. We follow the path of a tube of silk that glows within: the one that refracts sunlight down throughout his cave.
Cooler, fresher air falls over me.
The brightness is blinding as we emerge to a clean breeze.
I hide my eyes against his chest, then slowly adjust.
We’re in a meadow on a plateau above the forest. To one side, the cliff’s jagged edge falls away. Far below, the crimson forest ripples out toward a misty horizon.
The sky is still blue here. Light is light. Air is air. Some things are the same everywhere.
A dense carpet of wildflowers spreads beneath us in colors that make my head spin. Impossible colors. Reddish-green and yellowish-purple.
Opposite the cliff, dense shrubs with navy leaves block sight of whatever’s beyond them.
Sylvus approaches a low rise and settles onto the flowers, tucking his legs in and hunkering down. Like this, his head is about the same height as mine standing.
He places me on the little rise, where we can sit and speak eye-to-eye.
My chest pangs to have him no longer touching me, but since it’s kind of the point, I suck it up. The flowers are velvet-soft beneath me, and their stems weave together into a strange, springy mat.
The breeze washes over my naked skin.
Sylvus tousles my hair, then tucks a curl behind my ear.
