“So demanding.” He still refused.
“For fuck’s sake, can you give me your hand this one time? I’m worried if we don’t clean it, it’ll get an infection, and I quite like you having two hands. Especially since you so often like to use one of them to stroke my cock.”
“I feel I have given you my handplentyof times. Besides, I took a shower. Therefore, it’s clean. Done and done.”
“Clean? You think a shower would take care of it?” I groaned, running my hand down my face. “Give me your fucking hand, baby, or I’m holding true to my promise. I’ll touch myself alone inoursheets.”
“God, you’re infuriating.” Tossing his hand at me, his knuckles collided with my chest. “There. Happy?”
“I’d prefer without the attitude, but it’ll be fine.” I pulled it from my chest, careful of the opened wounds on his knuckles. Turning his hand over, I grabbed one of the wipes. “It’s going to hurt, but you’re not a pussy, are you?”
“Considering I took beatings from your father for how many years?” The question hit like a punch to the gut. “I’ll be fine.”
I gave him a quick nod before swiping the pad over the gash, cleansing it of any residual crimson. Thorne was quiet, not a sound escaping him as I dirtied three more. I wanted to make sure it was clean, because I couldn’t handle it if he got hurt again. I couldn’t handle it if my surprise hurt him again in physical ways.
Shoving those bitter, ruminating thoughts away, I dove into the task. I wrapped the gauze carefully around his palm, hoping to be gentle enough to prevent any more agony from surfacing. Once tightly secured, I moved to his knuckles, running the small alcohol square over each wound.
He didn’t respond to that either, and only our breathing mingled together. It was the one thing keeping me from spiraling further because of another mistake. One I knew had ended with a positive outcome, but that’s all I ever seemed to do with him. I only seemed to bring him pain first, and then get him out of it.
“Where did you wander off to?” His question sounded distant, part of me not realizing how far I’d fallen.
“I…” I stopped the lie from spewing further, something I was learning to overcome, even if I did still have my secrets. Stating my emotions had never been easy; I stuffed them so far down that even I had trouble identifying their roots, but I’d made a promise not to do it with him. “I feel bad for hurting you again.”
He looked at me before glancing down at his knuckles. “You didn’t hurt me. I did this to myself.”
“That’s a lie. If I had warned you about Matt?—”
“If you had warned me about Matt, I would’ve called off the party, andyouknow that.” Holding my gaze, he shook his head. “You did not drive my fist into the ground,Idid.”
“I-I know, but I can’t help but feel it was still my fault. I know it’s not, but that guilt… it lingers. I know it’s not possible to protect you all the time, but I want to. I never want you to get hurt.” My thumb lightly brushed above his knuckles, a tender expression I hoped got him to understand my point of view.
His fingers curled under my chin, drawing my averted attention back to him. “I know you do, and that is one of the many reasons I love you, Oren.”
“If… If I’m ever not enough, or can’t protect?—”
“Stop.” Snaking along my jaw, he hooked his hold around the back of my neck. “Never.Nevertalk about yourself like that again. You are enough. You aremorethan enough. More than anything I’ll ever deserve in this life.”
“Then… Then you promise to do the same? You’re more than enough for me, forever. You’re more than I ever dreamed possible.”
“Promise I’ll do the same? Protect you?” he asked for clarity, a sign that he was working on his communication, his understanding.
I shook my head. “Promise to never talk about yourself in negative connotations. Promise… Promise to always say you’re good enough for me, for Mercy, for your friends. Even for Prince,” I added at the end, a slight smile forming.
“That’s a steep ask,” he grumbled, running a hand through his grown, dark locks. “I’m a fucked up human, Oren. I’m damaged beyond repair, a shattered vase incapable of being put back together enough to ever hold a flower again. My cracks run deep, and I fear that if I promise you that, it will be a promise I inherently break.”
“Then… How about a different promise?”
He lifted a brow. “A different promise?”
“A-A different promise.” It was the reason I’d wanted the house party, our friends there, and Matt… Matt to be there, too.
Confusion flooded his features as he shifted to face me. “Out with it then? What other promise?”
“D-Drawer,” I said, unable to hold his gaze. “I-I have to, uhm, get them out of the drawer.”
Concern replaced bewilderment. “Oren. What is going on?”
“It-It’s fine.” I stumbled over to the drawer on my side of the bed, lifting the box out and tucking it close to my chest.
