Instead, I push up, only to lean back against my head board before tugging her along with me, settling her between my thighs with her back against my chest. She moves willingly, snuggling against me as I quickly find what I’m looking for on the tv.
“What were you expecting me to say?” I finally ask once the opening credits begin to roll, startled by the question that leaves my lips unfiltered.
She peers over her shoulder at me, a knowing grin in place.
“I don’t know, something with wolves in it,” she muses, leaving me to blink at her for amoment until understanding finally washes over me.
Pressing a kiss to her cheek, I offer her a wink. “Teen Wolfis a vibe, but I’d rather watch a high school kid in a crazy outfit fly around New York without a care in the world.”
“I think he has cares, Rion, and I’m guessing a superhero’s concerns relate to the world somehow,” she answers, and I shrug.
“Meh, I would take being Spiderman over being trapped in The Vale,” I answer honestly, and her eyes soften as she nods.
“Well, that’s because Spiderman isn’t being punished for his sins.”
Her words hit me like a brick, sinking in my gut as I struggle to breathe around the sensation. Rubbing my lips together, I ask a question that floats in my mind almost daily. “Do you ever feel like they’re not really our sins to punish?”
She shifts slightly so she can see me better, the movie already forgotten as she blinks at me. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know,” I rasp, quickly trying to play it off, but she’s not having any of it.
“You do, you just don’t want to say it.”
“Aren’t you clever,” I mumble, stroking myfinger down the side of her face as she continues to look at me with such softness that it threatens to melt me on the spot.
“I’m a high school drop out, and a badass one at that,” she preens, batting her eyelashes playfully, and I cock a brow at her.
“Are you really badass if you have tosayyou’re badass?”
Another whack of the back of her hand against my chest, and I’m lost in her.
“Okay, okay,” I surrender, capturing her wrists again, and she leans into me, resting her head against my shoulder as she stares into my eyes.
“What do you mean they’re not really our sins to punish?” she asks after a few moments, refusing to let the subject drop.
I don’t know whether I hate it or love it.
Talking about emotions isn’t my thing. I’ve never known how. Not with the pit that forms in my stomach, along with the memories I have of being a child and getting lectured on how I was supposed to act.
Emotionless.
On the other hand, the fact that she’s willing to listen, to hear me without judgment, makes me feel more seen than ever before.
Damn.
Wiping a hand down face, I muster a deep breath before I attempt to speak. “If we weren’t raised how we were, brought up in the surroundings we were stuck in, would we have taken the same actions?”
Her eyes widen as if she had never looked at it that way before. “I don’t know,” she breathes, and I nod.
“Tell me what happened that brought you here.”
It’s not something we’ve ever really talked about. We’ve been too busy surviving the disasters that continue to come our way. Seconds turn into minutes before she speaks, and it’s on the tip of my tongue to backtrack when her lips part.
“When I really think about it, I was set up by Walker.”
“The guy who brought you back when you ran,” I clarify, and she hums in agreement.
“One and the same,” she mumbles, disappointment lingering in the air.
