Not a single thought spared about what comes next.
???
I wake up hours later, and for the first time, it’s not because of my screams, my nails digging into my arms, or even opening my eyes to find myself in an abandoned cell with walls soaked with my blood.
I wake up to him.
Sweet kisses peppering all over my face bring a sleepy smile to my lips. My eyes slowly flutter open to find Angel crouched on the floor in front of me, softly running a hand through my hair, coaxing me into waking up.
My sleepy daze slowly subdues when my gaze falls to his soft chestnut curls, neatly styled and wet from his shower. He looks ready to start his morning in a fitted white dress shirt and black pants. I certainly miss the soft sweater look, but formal shirts on him are drool-worthy.
“Morning, beautiful,” he whispers, his fingers playing with a strand of my hair.
“Morning Angel.”
I don’t mind letting the endearment slip anymore. I’ve abandoned calling him anything but Angel, and it never fails to bring my favorite dimpled smile to his lips. My eyes cast down to his other hand lying idly beside my stomach, and I hold it between mine. Where it should be.
“Time to walk up, baby. I want to take you out for a drive around the city today, so go freshen up quickly. And yes, I’ll get all the junk food you want.”
With that, Anxo quickly disappears to ask Seiji to keep August busy for the day, but not before kissing my cheeks and savoring the blush his gesture brings.
I rush to my room after only getting lost three times. By the time I leave the bathroom, after brushing my teeth and showering, Angel is lying in the center of my bed, not caring about wrinkling his clothes.
“You took awfully long, sweetheart. I was—”
Anxo stops when his eyes fall on me, in nothing but a small towel covering the basics. For a second, it doesn’t dawn on me, but in a flash, cold dread washes over me when I follow his gaze to the scars littering my arms and shoulders.
How can I be so careless? How did I forget about the scars consuming me whole, as if they’ve always been a part of me?
My hands are shaking beside me, and I’m sure I look like I’m about to pass out, but I hold my ground.
I want to turn back around and lock myself in the bathroom and never come out, but I can’t do that to myself. I’m not going to hide myself.
This is me.My scars, flaws, and dark humor included.
This body has kept me upright long after my will to survive was broken. My scars are reminders of what I’ve been through and how I came out the other end. I won’t let anyone—even myself, piss on that.
When I finally let my eyes wander to his, Angel beckons me with his hand outstretched. I don’t hesitate to let him guide me to sit on his thigh when he makes space for me between them. With a hand around my waist to keep me steady, he raises my chin so I’m looking at him.
The raw admiration and adoration this man has for me makes it hard to keep my emotions under control. He doesn’t have to do anything but hold me like he is, looking at me as if I’m the reason he is breathing, and every wall I have around my heart falls over brick by brick.
“This is me.” I’m proud of the conviction in my voice. I’m not going to let my past and insecurities lead my future. He deserves more than that.Wedeserve more than that.
“You. Are.Magnificent.”
There’s an aggressive determination in his voice, like he is challenging me to think differently. Like he would fight me and anyone who dared say otherwise.
Leaning forward, he softly kisses the corner of my mouth—dangerously close to my lips, which leaves me wanting a little more. Tucking a wet strand behind my ear, his eyes gaze at meso intensely that I feel stupid for thinking he, of all people, would ever ridicule me about my past—about my scars.
There hasn’t been a single day Angel hasn’t gone out of his way to make sure I felt safe and comfortable. He deserves every ounce of my trust, and I’m determined to give it to him. To let him know how sure I am about him.About us.
“How?” When he sees that I don’t understand, Angel rephrases, “We heal phenomenally well, sweetheart.”
“Slicing open healing wounds is more painful than creating new ones. This is what happens as a result.”
He is quiet for a moment, tracing every scar he can reach on my thighs and kissing the ones on my bare shoulder.
“Those bastards are going to die a painful death.”
