Edward shrugged. “And do you know what, it doesn’t matter. Not anymore. Sometimes, secrets are better left buried. Clearly, Hanbury doesn’t want to let up on them, so why should we continue searching?”
“You’re going to give up, just like that?”
Edward’s sigh rivalled that groan of wild winds buffeting Hanbury’s walls. “I am.”
Whatever possessed Edward to scratch the walls, to harm himself without thought, had changed him. Scared him, rightfully so, but also took his motive, chewed it up into something unrecognisable and spat it out.
Every time it was mentioned, Edward retreated further and further away.
William felt more alone at that moment than he had before he’d arrived at Hanbury.
“I’m going to put my phone on charge in case the storm cuts the electrics again.” If it cut, there was no way William was going back into the basement anytime soon. Dream or not, what happened in that place repulsed him. “Then we should think about leaving. You really need to see a doctor about your hands.”
“No.” Edward barely looked at him when he replied. “We should leave now. No waiting.”
Not wanting to engage further, William stood. His legs were numb, his back aching, but he persisted. Clearly, Edward needed some space. Maybe, now he’d fully woken, he was pissed at what William did to him last night.
“I really am sorry, Edward.” William paused at the door long enough to force the final attempt of an apology out. “I didn’t want to hurt you, trust me. But you really left me no choice.”
Edward slowly shifted his gaze until it met William’s again. It was the first time he’d acknowledged him since they spoke about Robert’s journal entry. “I’m not mad at you.”
“Then why do you wince every time you look at me?”
Edward allowed himself a moment to digest the question before replying. “Because I’ve hurt you and… and I don’t deserve your kindness.”
Something in Edward’s response turned William’s regret into anger.
“Unfortunately, you cannot make that decision on my behalf.”
Edward gasped like a fish out of water. “But I–”
“No,” William snapped, fist pressing into the wall, the ache of his knuckles against the plaster pleasurable. “I don’t want to hear your reasonings, Edward. I get it, okay. You regret coming here, and guess what, I’m regretting even showing you a lick of kindness. I should’ve turned you away, made you walk back to town that first fucking day. Don’t worry. But do you know what, in a few hours, you’ll be rid of me, and I’ll be rid of you. We can forget all this happened and move on like we never even knew of each other’s existence.”
Edward sat up, lines deepening across his forehead. “That isn’t what this is about, Will.”
“Stopcalling me that.”
“I don’t regret anything.” Edward’s voice rose in defence of William’s tone. He pushed from the sofa to standing, wobbling slightly. It took William effort not to rush to his side and help him.
“Then why do you look at me like you do? Why is it that every time we catch eyes it’s like you very much regretme?”
Edward took cautious steps towards William, each footfall heavy and proud. “Don’t talk on my behalf. Ever. You don’t understand what is going through my head.”
“You’re right, I don’t. So go on then,” William said through a manic chuckle. “Why don’t you tell me. Spit it out. You might as well, right? What have you got to lose?”
They were so close now that there was barely an inch between them. William had to tilt his head back just to keep a grasp of Edward’s intense glare. “I told you. I don’t deserve your apology or your kindness. I don’t deserve the time you’ve given me. I don’t deserveyou. Yes, I regret bothering you with my fantasies, but that doesn’t mean I regretyou.”
“I don’t believe a word out of your mouth,” William seethed, leaning on his toes until there was little to no room between them. Edward’s cool breath worked against William’s face, his pupils widening to black pits as he took him in.
“You shouldn’t,” Edward whispered, no longer needing to shout they were so close.
William’s eyes roamed over every inch of Edward’s face, across the constellation of freckles, the dimples his high cheekbones made in his cheeks, all the way to the bow of his lips.
“I want you to regret me,” William said without thought. “It would be easier to hear you say it.”
Edward’s eyes widened a fraction. “Why?”
How could William say it? How could he explain the curse that followed him, the agony he caused whenever he opened himself up to another person? “Because I’m broken.”
