Chapter 17
Aoi
I never sleep next to strangers, yet I’m not uncomfortable near Andrew.
Maybe I should be warier about this young and devilish man. I have no reason to let down my guard but something about him promises safety. It may be undoubtedly foolish not to be wary of him, but I can’t seem to care.
Calling it blind trust couldn’t be any further from the truth. I don’t trust him, but I suppose I want to take a leap of faith. Although, It doesn’t matter what I want since my fear of being deceived and left behind is stronger than my false bravery.
Trust is for those who have nothing to lose.
Caution is for those who know the risks of giving their heart away.
I have a feeling that if I were to fall asleep in this seat, he’d simply let me, and I’d wake up as if nothing ever happened–as if this torment were a mere bad dream.
This familiar comfort is one I’ve longed for ever since…
Huh, ever since what?
For fuck’s sake. I’m sick of this shit.
His honey eyes and that forceful concern put me at ease, and I know they remind me of someone, but I can’t remember who.
Some of my memories are missing, and they all surround the scar on my forearm. Every time I try to remember what happened before I slit my wrist, my head starts aching and I have no choice but to let it go.
The doctor who had been in charge of me told me that memory loss is a common occurrence after a traumatic experience. But in that case shouldn’t I also have forgotten how my blood trailed over my fingers and stained the bathroom floor?
Why didn’t I let the blood flow? How come I bandaged the wound?
I don’t understand myself. For someone who has wanted to die ever since I was a teenager, I’ve always found ways to escape its blissful claws.
I was a coward back then and I remain an utter coward to this day.
Why am I still alive? I didn’t do it for myself. I hate that I’ve forgotten the reason I chose to stop the blood from flowing when I know I couldn’t have genuinely wished for salvation.
What could have possibly been so important?
My eyelids slowly shut, and I let the car ride lull me to a state of in between sleep and awareness.
I like the sensation of floating on a little cloud while still being oddly conscious of everything around me. My skin prickles at the sound of Andrew’s breathing, his finger tapping against the steering wheel and the odd feeling that he occasionally chances glances at me.
When I pull myself out of this trance, Andrew is staring at me with his head resting on the steering wheel. The sight makes me smile and I feel so stupid for wanting to see him smile back at me.
I blink away the fatigue and with each flutter a different image pops into my mind. Fragments of ragged breaths and golden eyes flash through my mind like thunder.
The longer I stare at him the more I have the feeling that I’ve met him before, but I can’t remember where or when.
Every parcel of my being silently tells me to touch him, to glide my fingers over that tanned skin, and carve the sensation in my mind to never be forgotten.
It’s odd that I feel like I’ve already claimed every inch of his skin, kissed and held every part of him like it was my right.
“Slept well?” He smiles sweetly, and I notice myself sink back onto that cloud. “We’re parked in front of my place. I didn’t want to wake you up. You seemed so at peace.”
I tilt my head, feeding on the curve of his lips, the glimmer in his eyes and the heat radiating from his body.
I feel like a lost letter being picked up and read for the first time in a millennia, delicate fingers brushing over my edges and unfolding me so my words can be spoken out loud with affection and interest.
“Yes, thank you.”
He doesn’t break the eye contact and simply observes me straightening up in the seat and stretching out my limbs with such intensity that a shiver runs down my spine.
I’ve seen that look before. I know I have and if I don’t remember where I’ve seen it in the next minute, I’ll reach inside my brain and pull the memory out with my bare hands.
“Do you feel better?”
“You want the truth or are you just asking for the sake of it?”
His smile drops and confusion washes over his expression. “Why wouldn’t I want the truth?”
“Why would you?”
“I don’t understand why you’re asking me that, but I can assure you that I really care about your well-being.”
I eye him skeptically before deciding to stop messing with the poor man. “I still feel like shit but it’s not as bad as it was when you found me.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” He watches me attentively, carefully even, then he chuckles nervously. “I’m guessing you don’t, but I still wanted to ask, just in case you felt the need to confide in someone.”
“I got into an argument with my…with someone I care about,” I say, laughing hollowly to dissipate the tightness growing in my throat.
“He got angry at me because I slept with other people. To be honest, that’s not really anything new, but he usually ignores the crap I do which is why I was so…
shocked? I don’t know if that’s the right word to describe it, but yeah, I was shocked by his reaction. ”
His eyes widen as though he didn’t expect me to actually open up, and I begin wondering if I should have just shut my mouth. He doesn’t even know me. Why the hell am I telling him all that?
That’s fucking weird.
I’m so stupid.
His hand settles over mine and he squeezes it gently. “Are you okay? Is he your boyfriend or something? Did he…did he hurt you?”
“No,” I mumble, taken aback by his worry but even more by the queasy feeling of his hand on mine. “He didn’t hurt me and he’s definitely not my boyfriend. That’d be insane.”
“I know it’s none of my business, but if you need help getting rid of this man, you can count on me,” he says cautiously, sharpening his tone. “One word and consider it done.”
I burst out laughing, removing my hand from his grip to cover my mouth as I shake against the seat. “I’m sorry! Oh my God, you’re adorable.”
“What?” he flushes. “What’s so funny? I meant every word, you know?”
“Yeah, no, of course you did.” I catch my breath and lean back against the seat. “I just think it’s endearing that you’d say something like that out of the blue. It’s like in those mafia movies where the big, tatted guy promises to avenge his lover.”
“You don’t think I would?” he asks, frowning.
I’m tempted to grab his face and just devour that adorable pouty mouth of his, nibbling on his bottom lip and sucking him dry of any silly comment he can still think of uttering.
“Oh no, Prince Charming. I know you would.”
“Are you making fun of me?” He grins and leans forward, crowding my space with his intoxicating scent. “That’s not very nice of you, Aoi.”
I mirror his gesture and take it up a notch by playing with the cuff of his sweater, stroking his wrist under the fabric. “Who said I was nice? I’ll have you know I’m a terrible person.”
“No,” he breaths, glancing to my lips and back to my eyes. “You’re not.”
“And how do you know?” I tease, slipping further under his sleeve and tilting my head coyly. “You shouldn’t trust me so easily.”
He smiles so brightly that I have to lean back before I seriously do something stupid like kissing him and riding him in the back seat.
“You’re…”
“Yes?”
He chuckles under his breath and straightens in his seat, repositioning his hard on in his pants, cheeks flushed in delight. “Such a tease.”
And he’s hard.