While I’m preparing myself for a sharp slice. From the blade in his hand, or… otherwise.
“I’m… not sure what you… want me to say,” he finally mumbles, emerald lustor gleaming perplexity at my face. “What do youwantfrom me, Manuel?”
The softness of his voice, using my real name, cuts me down so much more thoroughly than even the sharpest of knives could.
He doesn’t want to be trapped… He doesn’t deserve to be.
And so I know the best gift I could give him is thiskeyin my pocket… But the truth is, I’d rather him stab me than leave.
It’s so goddamn staggering.
“Would you stay…?” I ask him, so softly it’s barely audible. “If I set you free, little bird?”
He swallows visibly. “You’ll never know if you don’t unlock that door…”
Ican’tdo that.Because I’m afraid…
Fuckingridículo, but I’m more terrified of losing him than anything else…
“I just want you… and I don’t understand it,” I confess the truth, because hiding it is doing nothing for me. “I thought I would know exactly what to do with you when I got you, but none of it is happening the way I expected. You’re… confusing, pajarito. Everything about you brings me to my fucking knees, and the craziest part is that I don’t even mind being there.”
I grab his hand, using it to point the knife at my heart. It’s not open, but still, I’m pressing it up to my chest while he gapes at me like I’m insane.
I’msureI am. It’s not even a question anymore.
“If you still want to kill me, I respect that,” I tell him. “But I’d appreciate it if you didn’t…”
A tiny, humorous breath puffs from his lips, though he’s still just staring at me.
“I’m serious,” I murmur quietly. “I don’t want… to lose you. To… leave you.”
“Jesus Christ…” he whispers.
“I’m sorry,” I say again, mainly because I’ve never said it to anyone but him, and I like it. The way it feels, and the way it sounds when I say those two words to him, and mean it. “For being awful.”
“You are,” he grumbles. “The fucking worst.”
I nod. “I know.”
“But you’re not really sorry for that…” he rasps. “Are you?”
I actually have to think about it for a second. “I’m sorry for how it hurts you. But I know part of you likes it…”
He frowns.
“Tell me I’m wrong.” I can’t help but smirk.
“Fuck you, Diablo,” he breathes, chin wobbling in grievance. “Here…” He hands me the knife back. “Just… stop.”
I’m momentarily panicked that he’s not accepting my peace offering.
“No.” I give it back, but he won’t take it. He stumbles away, and I follow him. “I’m serious, Angel. Take the fucking knife. I want you to have it back—”
“Why??” He barks. “You don’t want me to kill you, you just said it yourself. And you know…” He pauses to gulp. “That I’m not going to…”
“Why not?” My head tilts.
He scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Fuck off. You’re just playing me… You’restilltrying to prove how weak I am. Well, guess what, Diablo?? Message received! Iamweak. Because no matter how badly I want to, Ican’tfucking kill you!”
