Chapter 83
Miireya
Play - Paper Doll by Flower Face
A bad idea
His house is warm and quiet, as if the world isn’t a part of it. I sit on the couch with my knees pulled up, wrapped in a blanket that smells like detergent and him. The ocean keeps throwing itself against the cliff outside.
It sounds tired. I understand that.
Damien sits next to me, close enough that I feel the heat of him, but he doesn’t touch me. It’s strange how much I notice that. “You’re worried,” I say.
He doesn’t look away when he replies, “Should I be?”
I shift slightly, and my knee brushes his. He doesn’t move, his hand is on the cushion between us, open, waiting, like he’s trying not to ask for anything and I slide my fingers into his, and he closes his hand around mine immediately.
I need you. I need you even if we’re going to get hurt at the end.
“You shouldn’t,” I lied. His thumb moves slowly over my knuckles and I continue, “You’re not supposed to be this careful.”
He lets out a quiet breath. “You’re not supposed to need me to be.”
I lean my head against his shoulder. He stiffens for a second, then settles, his arm coming around me. His thumb is still brushing my hand, softly, like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. Then he says, “Run away with me.”
I freeze, my lips parting to reply but nothing comes out of it. I can’t love you without hurting. Some terrible, selfish part of me wants to know what it would feel like to say yes.
“You can’t say things like that…” I whisper.
His eyes flick to my mouth, then back to my eyes. “Why?”
“Because you know you can’t,” I reply, staring at him. Nothing makes sense apart from how he looks at me at that moment. Certainty and softness wrapped in the prettiest shade of blue.
“I can.”
I hate how he’s so confident about this. Because I disappear alone most of the time, whether in my head, in my nightmares, on the cliff, in substances. Disappearing is all I can do. I leave before people can leave me. Convincing myself that needing less means losing less.
But when it comes to him, I don’t know how to need him less.
“That’s not fair…” I murmur.
His eyebrows pull together and he asks, “What isn’t, Mireya?”
I look down at our hands, at the place I’m in. You. I want to say, you’re not fair. Because if it was anyone else, I could walk away.
“You’re the one person I can’t want, Damien,” I finally say.
His hand doesn't let go of mine, if anything, his grip gets tighter. A faint breath leaves him as his eyes drop between us before returning to me. “And you’re the one person I can’t have.”
I stare at our hands like they don’t belong to us and exhale. “Why did it have to be you?” My voice… It sounds like I’m mourning something that never even had the chance to exist.
“I wouldn’t have let it be anyone else,” he replies as his hand comes up to my cheek. He waits, like I might pull away as his thumb traces my jaw. And then he kisses me. It carries every word we refuse to say and every reason we give each other to stay away from this.
Tongue on tongue, begging to let the other go deeper, caught in that frustrated state of trying to get impossibly closer and finding a reason to pull away.
It's a messy and brutal kiss. His hands go from gripping my jaw to pulling my hair. My fingers find his shirt then his arms, anything solid to hold onto.
Then we broke apart because the kiss took everything away from us. Air, self-control, logical thoughts. Our foreheads are pressed together, his hand is back on my face for one more second before falling down.
“Come upstairs,” he whispers, breathless. “You shouldn’t fall asleep here.”
I nod and he takes my hand in his, lacing his fingers with mine, and guides me upstairs.
The door opens, and my eyes land on the bed, then back at him.
My body moves before my mind can find an excuse to run away and back off.
My fingers close around his shirt, pulling him toward me as I walk back to the bed.
The surprise in his eyes quickly turns into something softer, something more dangerous than anything I’ve ever seen in them.
The back of my knees hit the mattress and I sit down without breaking eye contact.
For a second he stares at me, then he moves closer, the bed sinks beneath his weight as he follows me down.
We almost kiss again. Almost. Every time we get closer, one of us hesitates, caught between desire and restraint.
Whimpers and uneven breaths feel the room, his name slips out of my mouth in a soft whisper as his long fingers brush my collarbone.
“This is a bad idea,” I say, as I pull him closer with my arms.
His eyes drop to my lips before coming back to mine. “Then stop me.”
I pull him closer instead and he kisses me again.
His mouth moves slowly at first, then his tongue brushes mine, like he’s asking permission without words.
My breath stumbles, and his fingers dig gently into my back, grounding himself through me.
He shifts over me, weight hovering enough that I feel him everywhere.
His thigh presses between mine. I feel it, I feel him, and my chest tightens and at that moment, there was no future waiting for us, no consequences and no goodbye.
His mouth trails from mine to my jaw, teeth grazing and I shiver as a begging sound catches in my throat. He presses himself closer and I feel how badly he wants this.
“We shouldn’t,” I whisper, breathless.
“I know,” he says, lips brushing mine again, deeper, heavier and desperate at the same time. “You feel that?” he murmurs. “That’s me wanting you.”
I nod, heart pounding.
“And this…” he slides his hand along my waist gently. “…This is me stopping.” His nose brushes against mine.
My pulse spikes and I want to argue. I want to vanish. I want to stay. But more than anything, I want him.
“You need safety tonight,” he whispers, lips brushing my temple as his arms wrap fully around me. “I’ll give that to you.”
I sink into him, as his hand moves through my hair slowly, pressing my back against him. Thumb tracing lines on my skin that feel like promises. “You can sleep here,” he murmurs. “Monsters can’t reach you in my arms.”
I press closer, curling against him, letting my head rest on his chest. His heartbeat is steady under my ear, real and constant as I drift, finally, into sleep.
Even in the dark, I know the danger hasn’t left us. But for tonight, in his arms, I don’t have to care.