8. Astor
CHAPTER EIGHT
ASTOR
S he looks at me with those hunter green eyes, her cheeks still wet from her tears. Seeing her cry is tugging at the black hole in my fucking chest. She has no idea just how much of the solution to this problem we are.
“Tell me. I’m so tired of everyone making decisions for me and keeping me out of the loop.”
“I have nothing to tell you, Alessia. But if it were something like that, then you know the life we live: we were both taught kill or be killed. You know that.”
“Yes, but I don’t choose to live by it.”
She’s so na?ve, that’s always been the problem. As strong as she is, she likes to let people think she’s weak. She likes to let people think that she’s clueless and helpless. But I know her, I went through the same training as her. The difference is, I don’t hide who I am or who I was raised to be. She, on the other hand, despises what her true identity is supposed to be. Before the day that changed all of our lives forever, she was just as ruthless as me. After it, though, she turned into this saint. Someone who tried so hard to fight her anger and see the bright side of everything.
She looks down at herself, wrapped in just a towel, and tightens it around herself.
“Do you have my bag?” I nod to the bag sitting in the chair in the corner of my room. She strides over to it and turns to me.
“Sorry for crying. See you in the morning.” I nod at her and she stops at the door. “I need to study. Did you happen to bring my books, too?”
“You need to sleep. It’s 2:00 a.m.”
“I can’t sleep in…strange places.”
“This isn’t a strange place.” She looks around and raises her eyebrows.
“It is to me. I can’t sleep when I’m alone in new places.” She shrugs her shoulder and catches my gaze as she looks around my room.
“You can sleep in here.” She turns her lip up in disgust and I chuckle. “Or not. You’re the one looking fucking pitiful because you’re scared to sleep alone.”
“I am not scared; I’m just I don’t have my pillow.”
“Pillow?”
“Yes, my body pillow. It…never mind—” She turns on her heels and I stop her in her tracks.
“Alessia…finish your sentence.”
“It’s stupid…”
“Don’t make me repeat myself. I’m tired and I’m not a nice person when I’m tired.”
“Oh, so I take it you're tired all the time, then?” I narrow my eyes at her and she picks at the side of the towel. “I don’t like sleeping alone, so when I got my own apartment, I bought an extremely oversized pillow to wrap myself around.”
“Hm, interesting.”
“See, now you’ll add that onto your list of shit to bug me about.”
I raise my hands up in innocence as she retreats into her bedroom. I shake my head at the confession she revealed. She was vulnerable tonight, but I’m sure that by morning she’ll be back to not speaking to me.
My phone dings moments later and I smirk at the message.
Alessia:
Tell anyone that and I’ll kill you.
Me:
Your faith in yourself is astounding.
Alessia:
I could take you. I’ve wanted to bring you to your knees for years.
Me:
Bring it, malyshka. And if you want me on my knees, all you have to do is ask.
Alessia:
I’m not your baby girl. And gross.
Me:
Soon you’ll be my wife. Mine to torture. Mine to make cry. Mine to hurt. Fuck, I can’t wait.
Alessia:
How romantic.
Me:
Go to bed.
Alessia:
I can’t. I told you that, already. So, keep the hate to a minimum in the morning because I’m destined to be in a God-awful mood.
Me:
Either get your head out of your ass and come sleep in here or stop texting me. I’m fucking tired.
I look at the phone, waiting for the three dots to appear. When they don’t, I realize that I won the battle. She’s too fucking scared of what I’ll do to her if she sleeps in here. She probably thinks I’ll suffocate her in her sleep. I laugh at the thought of what’s going through her head right now. I climb out of bed and head into the bathroom to brush my teeth. I pull my shirt over my head and slide my sweats off. Usually, sleep doesn’t claim me so easily, but I’m fucking exhausted from this goddamn day.
When I step back into my room, I see a small brunette with a messy bun piled on top of her head under my covers, staring at me. I tilt my head at her and she shrinks.
“What? Is this your side?” she asks, starting to slide over. I raise my hand to stop her and round the bed, cutting the lights off.
I crawl under the covers, hyper aware of her body next to mine. She’s close. Not close enough to where I could touch her, but I can definitely smell her. The scent of lavender fills my nostrils and I groan. I feel her eyes on me as I turn to face her, the moonlight hovering over her skin. “What?” I ask.
“You groaned…not me.”
“Go to sleep, Alessia.” She shrugs and rolls over, giving me her back. I shake my head and close my eyes. There’s no fucking way she can sleep in my bed again after this.
I wake up to the sound of soft, deep breathing and a leg thrown over my thigh. Alessia is snuggled up to me and has her hand wrapped around my midsection. I usually cringe at the thought of a woman touching me, but Alessia’s touch is different . She groans when I move her off me and tap my phone to see the time.
4:42 a.m.
I shoot Justin a quick text, letting him know to go to class without me.
Justin:
Fuck that class, I’m not going either. I’m fucking exhausted.
Me:
Long night?
Justin:
Let’s just say my dick hates me right now.
Me:
What’d I tell you about oversharing?
Justin:
Not my fault you won’t have hate sex with Lessia. Hate sex is the best sex.
Me:
Says who?
Justin:
Trust me, fuck her. Thank me later. Night, fucker.