Page 26 of The Honor Society

She laughs. It’s so damn pretty and free. Is she as two faced as me? Able to laugh and hold me close the point a gun at me seconds later? “Well played.”

I’m sweating, however.

I can’t let my lines blur, I can’t let the worlds meet.

Here I have to be Axel.

Later, I can be Proctor.

Later I’ll allow the blood of my enemies to distract me.

Now? I’ll let it be her body.

Her tongue.

The soft responsive moan.

I stop kissing her. I shouldn’t. This is wrong. Yet, is it? Is it so wrong to want her one more time? To say goodbye with my body? God knows my words aren’t going to do it justice. I want to go out in fiery flames, I want our neighbors to hear us and wonder what’s so great about us being together and die with jealousy every time I make her scream my name. I grin.

“What?” She whispers.

I brush my thumb along her soft cheek. “Nothing.”

“Liar.” She breathes.

You have no fucking idea.

It’s wrong. This is wrong. She’s kissing me to help me remember, I’m lying about what I forgot. This means something, in the end, I’m the liar, the betrayer, the person tugging strings she has no idea even exist and I still go with it. I still kiss her harder. I still pull her closer. I lift her into my arms and carry her into her bedroom, the cookies long forgotten, and when I kick the door shut and set her on her feet, she’s already peeling her shirt off.

Familiar. All of this. Painfully. Wonderfully. Familiar.

My throat closes another inch. It should be this simple right? It should be this easy, me and her, nothing else. And yet, something huge exists in the space between us and the lines, I already blurred them the minute I texted back, the second I showed up on her doorstep for more.

Like by showing my loyalty to her as Axel, I wouldn’t hurt her as The Proctor.

Like being with her could redeem what I was killing.

And yet I don’t turn around.

Knowing all of these fucking things, I reach for her.

“I want you.” She says.

“Charlie…”

“Don’t Axel, not now.”

She’s giving me permission and I greedily take it don’t I? Like the bastard I am, I cup her face to bring her closer.

Wet tears meet my palm and I’m lost. My mouth fuses with hers, the salty taste of her tears mixed with chocolate chip, add in a sprinkle of regret from both of us and we’re a miserable dessert aren’t we?

“I just, I missed you so much.” Her body tremble against mine. “You have no idea⁠—”

“—I’m right here.”

“But,” her mouth moves against mine, slowly, “You weren’t, I mean, even at the hospital it was you but it wasn’t and now, I see glimpses, but it’s not.”

“The brain is fickle. The heart even more so.” What the hell am I even saying?