“Does the thought of me wanting to kiss you right now repulse you?”
Biting my tongue, I mentally scream, chastising myself for it slipping out despite my intended question. But rules are rules, and I wasted my one on something I don’t want the answer to.
I’m perfectly happy living with my delusions, since the few times I’ve dabbled with reality, the pain drove me right back to the verge of insanity.
“No,” she answers without hesitation, and I stop my internal cursing, barely breathing. “I just hate myself for wanting more when I should be grateful for what I already have,” she whispers, closing her eyes.
My hand closes around her chin, chest rumbling with displeasure. She doesn’t get to hide, not after admitting something like that.
“You deserve everything. Don’t deny yourself what you want to try and please everyone. Fuck people, and fuck their opinions.” My lips pull back in a snarl as I remind myself to loosen my grip so that I don’t hurt her. “Life isn’t fair, so why bother playing by the rules?”
Her eyes blink back open, the golden orbs far too bright to be resigned to a fate of living in the shadows. I wait, Elysium bringing out my patience in a way nothing’s managed to before now. As intently as I’m watching, I notice the moment she makes up her mind before she even moves, a flash of determination skating across her irises. Rising up on her toes, she presses her lips to mine, and though I instigated it, I freeze.
Flirting is one thing, but follow-through another. Ever since Julian made me clean up my own mess, I haven’t pursued anyone. I can still feel her blood on my skin, see the vacant look on her face staring back at me as I burned the body.
“Sorry,” she murmurs, pulling back, and I try to shake the memories from my head. When I release her face, my hands are damp, and I start rubbing my fingers together.
Water. Not blood. Here and now, not then and there.
Not sure how to articulate any of my tumultuous thoughts, I dip my head, kissing her hard. One hand braced on the wall beside her head, the other cups the side of her cheek, gentler this time. As quickly as I kiss her, I step away, not trusting myself when pale blue eyes merge with amber, making it difficult to wade through what’s real and what’s not.
Elysium isn’t like the rest. Sheseesme. As much as I want to throw her on the bed and fuck her until she’s screaming my name, I don’t want to lose that. I’ve spent a lifetime without anyone looking at me the way she does, and now that I’ve had the barest taste?
I can’t fuck this up.
“Don’t you want to see what’s in the bag?”
She blinks a few times before the corner of her mouth twitches. “Of course I do. Let me go throw some clothes on real quick.”
She starts to slide past me, but I grab her arm. “I don’t mind.”
Chuckling, she tucks her towel tighter so that it doesn’t slip, walking towards the bed. “You’re so impatient.”
I sit down beside her, leg bouncing before I consciously force myself to still it. “Life’s too short to sit around bored, waiting for things to happen to you.”
Pulling the red and black dress from the bag, her head whips to me, speechless. I grin, soaking up her reaction. I’ve been watching her over the last few weeks to see what she wore and what she didn’t, trying to gauge her size better.
And promptly realized women’s sizes don’t make a lick of sense and got something that laced up the back.
“Not sure why I need something this sexy for doing the dishes,” she chuckles breathlessly, rubbing her fingers over the fabric, not taking her eyes off of it.
“Training, take two,” I answer, hopping to my feet and dragging her up with me.
Grinning, she pulls her gaze away from the dress. “You’re taking me outside?”
Stepping towards her dresser, I dig out some underwear and a pair of black leggings since it’s cold out, tossing them on the bed. “I’m taking you on a work date. Well, Everett is-” I scowl in annoyance “-but our first threesome. Thought we should commemorate the occasion by dressing up.”
Her smile lights up her face, brighter and more genuine than anything I’m used to. There’s a darkness lurking inside of her, though I doubt she realizes it yet. I know that’s why she calls to me the way that she does. She doesn’t think she’s better than me, above the rest of us. She’s my fallen angel, lighting up the darkness while making it her home.
“Turn around,” she commands, waiting until I turn my back to drop the towel and start tugging her clothes on.
Lacing my fingers behind my back, I rock on my heels, but don’t peek. Trust is such a fragile little thing, and no one trusts me to hold it for fear of causing it to shatter. Yet here’s this sweet girl, tossing it in my direction and merely expecting me to catch.
Won’t let her down. Can’t drop the glass ball of trust. No, it needs to be better than a ball; mirror? Wait, who doesn’t love a good coffee mug? It’s a trust cup now.
“There’s no way I’m getting this tied off on my own,” she announces with a sigh. “Help?”
She sends a frustrated, pleading look over her shoulder, holding the front of her dress to her chest and giving me her back. Crossing the little distance that separates us, I deftly start fixing the black ribbon, cinching it tighter with each cross.
