CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
The walk back to Toro’s room is too quiet. He’s carrying me, holding me up against his chest like some kind of wounded animal. I know I made the right choice, I do. But why does it hurt so much?
When he sets me down on the bed I feel way too overwhelmed to cuddle.
I roll away from him, retreating to the corner of the bed while he just watches with an annoyingly sad expression on his face.
He’s always sad. Always looking like he’s the one who needs to be saved when he’s the one who hurts people.
That thought makes me wince. I didn’t mean it.
I’m just frustrated. But at what? Nadine?
Him? Myself? I don’t know. Not right now.
He lays down next to me, but doesn’t make any motions to try and nuzzle or cuddle with me.
It’s weird, and I’m happy he’s listening but maybe that’s not what I really want right now.
I scoot up next to him, letting my head rest on his chest. Despite how big and strong he is, he's just the softest pillow. The best place to rest my head while I think about all the decisions that brought me to this very moment.
He grabs my waist, rubbing up and down the soft skin exposed thanks to my shirt pulling itself up when I rolled over all dramatically.
His digits move lazily, unintentionally poking into the stubborn bit of fat that just won’t go away.
Squirming, I try to push his hand elsewhere but he just groans and swats me away.
“Toro,” my voice is low in warning. “Enough.”
He looks down at me, confusion evident on his features before he simply shrugs at me like he’s saying “what?” He resumes what he was doing, earning another irritated huff out of me.
It just reminds me of everything. The pure shock on her face when I said that I loved him.
Not once in our entire friendship had she ever looked at me with so much disdain.
Shame is a dangerous thing.
“Don’t touch there.” I add, trying a gentler approach with my tone. “I don’t… like it.”
Before I can even blink Toro is immediately shifting our positions so he’s laying on top of me, gazing at me as if I’m a thousand miles away. It’s as though I said I didn’t like him or something similar to that.
“It’s… hard to explain.” It’s not really, I just don’t know how to say it out loud. I don’t like talking about it. Not to him, not to Nadine, not to anybody. “Let’s just cuddle, okay?”
But he just won’t let up, staring at me with curiosity plastered across his face. Toro must want to ask me about it, but he can’t find the words. His hand returns to the spot, giving the layer of fat a squeeze that makes me let out the mousiest squeak.
“Stop,” I let out sharper than intended. Is he trying to make me mad? “I told you I don’t like it.”
But he doesn’t. Instead, he grabs my shirt and lifts it up.
Clusters of chaste kisses are planted wherever he can get his stupid face close to.
When I push him back he pouts at me, before swiftly reminding me who has the actual upper hand here.
He kisses me some more, before just resting his stubbly cheek against my stomach.
“Soft,” he mumbles with an annoyingly sweet smile on his face. It’s so casual and I absolutely hate it. He’s treating one of my biggest insecurities like it’s nothing—like it’s totally normal and fine.
I avert my gaze to the ceiling, Toro’s body keeping me pinned down so I couldn’t dramatically run away even if I wanted to.
He shifts, pushing himself up so his chest is pressed up against my torso while he kisses at my neck.
After a good dozen kisses he drags his tongue up for good measure, trailing it all the way up to my cheek.
The sputter I let out is reminiscent of a dying engine, head snapping down to stare at him with wide eyes. His expression is so warm, with unbridled genuine affection that I’ve never experienced until now.
“Perfect…” His chest rumbles when he speaks, giving my wet cheek a peck. When his voice gets all low like that it sends an exciting chill down my spine, especially when it’s being paired with such an intense look of love.
“You just don’t understand…” My tone is gentle now, kissing his forehead. Maybe it’s okay to talk about it. Maybe he’ll understand. “When I was younger… people weren’t nice to me.”
Toro’s head tilts to the side. He doesn’t completely get it, but the frown he’s wearing tells me he gets the gist of what I mean at least. He takes my hand, giving it a comforting squeeze as he rests his head on my chest. Even without speaking I know he’s content to just listen.
Usually I hate talking about this stuff. Nadine listened, but I don’t think she ever fully understood—not really. She was always pretty. Always gorgeous. Always captivating attention without even trying. I was never jealous, but maybe sometimes I envied how easy it all came to her.
“I was big,” I continue, “like really big. But I was still me. I was still the same person. They were just so… mean. I got used to being the butt of a joke, or the way people saw me but never saw me.”
The grip on my hand tightens, his thumb rubbing soothing circles around my knuckles. I wonder if this is even making any sense to him. Does he get what I’m saying? What I’m telling him?
“It’s stupid.” I grumble, attention shifting elsewhere while I stroke his hair. “But… yeah.”
When our eyes meet he smiles at me, and like an idiot I immediately forget myself. It’s so easy to get lost in his smile, so gentle and loving. “Not… stupid,” the words come slowly but I’m hanging on to every syllable. “Not… Ugh…”
He groans again, hiding his face in my chest. Is he frustrated that he can’t express himself how he’d like? He has to be. “Good.” It’s simple, but I understand it. I understand what he’s saying. “Good… Mine…”
“Yours?” My lips curve upwards at the thought. I never thought I’d be into all that possessive crap, but with Toro it’s different. A lot of things are. “Is that so?”
“Mine.” Toro repeats with a playful growl, baring his teeth at me before scooting up to kiss my chin again. “Nico… Perfect.”
It’s my turn to grumble, face heating up at such a simple yet silly compliment.
The idea of me being perfect is so foreign, but for some reason when he says it I almost believe it.
Maybe it’s the fact he doesn’t lie, at least not to me.
It could even be the way looks at me, too.
There’s never judgement, even when he’s upset he tries to keep himself composed.
So how couldn’t I believe him?