Silence stretches, save for a groan of floorboards in the cold, quiet house.
I glance upward at the high ceiling, the lightning bolt and night sky arching over us in shades of plum and violet and lilac. Is someone moving up there? Or does this peak over our heads reach to the roofline?
I think it is probably extremely late night and early morning both, but with no windows, I have no sense of time, and in the purple glow of light as floorboards from somewhere creak once more, everything feels eerie.
Sullen’s silence adds to that.
I dip my head and take a drink. I close my eyes and don’t stop.
I hear Sullen shift on his throne, then he says,“Karia, enough.”
I smile with my mouth still around my glass, but I don’t listen to him. He is not my father, and that man didn’t choose me anyway. No one did in the room Sanford vanished from. Not even Sullen himself.
I keep drinking, the burn nearly undetectable now. It warms my lower belly, but what I savor most is the freedom I find in it.
Silence rings out around me.
Only the sound ofmeis audible in the room, swallowing poison. But this time, at least it’s with my own consent and power.
“Are you doing this because now you’ve seen me, I am too disgusting to spend any time with unless you’re drunk?”
I nearly spit out the wine.
I lower the glass to my thigh, over the blanket, my eyes wide and lips parted as I curl my fingers into the pink, velvety-soft fabric. “Are you joking?”
But he doesn’t look as if he is, dark eyes locked onto mine, his ivory skin cast in hues of lavender, deep brown hair tinted with the color, too. It suits him, purple highlights among his strands. I almost want to tell him, a smile forming on my lips, but then I remember precisely what it is we’re talking about.
I roll my eyes when I realize he hasn’t answered me, then take another sip of wine, holding his gaze as I do. Taking pleasure in the way his eyes narrow as if he would love nothing more than to punish me.
I wish you would.
“Your insecurities bore me,” I say softly, although I don’t mean it. I find them endearing, if wholly unfounded.
He doesn’t react to my words as I twirl the mostly empty glass in my hand, watching him watch me.
“So you won’t tell me? What you discussed with your dear old grandfather? Is he still alive?” I make a show of glancing around the room, as if I will find Sanford Rule somewhere among the purple. “Did he leave? Or do you even know what Cosmo did to him?”
Still, no reaction.
It isn’t fair.
I want to fight.
I want to scream.
I want to kiss him.
I don’t want to know who he killed just as much as I do. I don’t want to discuss his room, the urine that warped the floors, his breakdown in the corner, the lock outside of his door; I want to discuss it all.
I want to claw out of my own skin just to slip into his.
I don’t know what happens from here, I don’t know where Cosmo is, or Sanford, orwhythe former even came at all.
I could’ve asked for answers, left Sullen locked in that room, but I didn’t, because I amobsessedwith him.
And he is giving me nothing of what I need right now.
I drain the glass completely.
