56. Chapter Fifty-Six
Chapter Fifty-Six
Jordan
He’s staring at me.
Mouth working.
Muscles taut.
Face contorting as every emotion slides over his features.
A weariness makes his movements hesitant as he takes one step into the room and then just stands there gawking through the haze of black that’s around his eyes and on his hands.
He can wear all the black in the world. Smudge his eyes in the darkest colors. Paint his goddamn nails with ink.
Yet none of that does anything to snub out the lightness of him.
His golden curls lifting from his bandana like a halo. The almost tan tint to his skin. Colorful tattoos peek out from around the deconstructed jeans and holey shirt.
A freckle poking out from behind the mask of makeup high on his cheek, slightly larger than the rest, calling to me like a beacon.
I never noticed that before.
The way he cares for those around him, so deeply that he hurts more than he’ll ever admit. His nicknames and antics. The wild jokes.
I’m on my feet before I realize I’ve moved.
“What are you doing here?” he asks, the words shaking from his lips as I come to a stop right in front of him.
His features harden as if anger is the armor he’s settled on.
And it’s a bright goddamn thing to see in him.
Where there’s anger, there’s still hope.
If there’s hope … there’s a connection that’s salvageable.
What the fuck am I doing? I came here to quit.
To his face.
And yet …
Seeing him after all this time is like being revived while being underwater. A jolt to my too-dead heart. Like I’ve finally found the thing I’ve been looking for and it’s still just out of reach.
“You ghosted me,” I settle on instead because my tongue feels too thick to say the rest.
A scoff forces from him, his arms thrown up at his sides.
“I told you to stop using me,” he growls out. “But here you are, and for what? More ?”
I shake my head. “No—” Yes . “—I needed to see you.”
“Well, douche nugget, you saw me. Now get the fuck out and leave me alone.”
He goes to brush passed me when I force out, “no.”
His head hangs for a long beat, hands on his hips, breath coming in choppy.
When he looks back up at me, his eyes shine but his words are a solid slap to the face.
“Stop hurting me like this.”
Doesn’t he know this hurts me, too?