Chapter 60 #3
Everything inside me stiffened.
Davian must have noticed, because he pulled away from my hair and let me look up at him, even though I wasn't ready for what I was about to do next.
I was excellent at ruining things that were good. Moments like this one. Because life knew I didn't deserve them.
“I found a gun in your nightstand. With a bullet in it.”
Davian’s expression slipped before his face turned to stone.
“How can I promise you something that you can’t promise me?”
With tears in my eyes, I shook my head and slid back, forcing him to take his hands off me, and it hurt like hell.
“You never trusted me.”
He reached for my hand, but I quickly stood up, stepped back, and Davian got to his feet abruptly as well.
“Quill...”
“You lied to me so that I would have a reason and you wouldn't have to burden yourself with unnecessary worry.”
I let my tears flow freely. Davian followed their trail, looked at the ground, then swallowed before meeting my gaze.
“And I would do it again.”
Stunned, I stared at him.
“If it means you're safe.”
Safe from what? Myself? That would never be the case. And he knew that, knew it didn't work that way.
“That hurts, Davian,” I whispered through more and more tears. “Knowing that you... You could have...”
I broke off, not strong enough to speak the words that thinking about alone already brought me to my knees.
Davian stared at me as if my words had thrown him off balance just as much.
“Those bullets were a first step...”
He pressed his lips together, wanting to step toward me, but I kept backing away.
“Quill, I...”
He ran his fingers through his hair.
“It's been sixteen years.”
His eyes began to glisten, causing my chest to ache and regret to grip me.
“I can't bury this desire overnight.”
He sounded desperate. And he had every right to be. But so did I.
“Neither can I.”
All he seemed capable of was staring at me, his expression drenched in despair.
I clawed my clutch bag, letting it slowly slide behind my back. Too slowly.
Davian's gaze slipped down my body, fixed on the small bag. Eventually, he looked back up at my panicked face.
It took a few seconds, then realization filled his eyes and he stepped toward me again.
Frantically, I hid the clutch behind my back and stepped further back, grateful that the roof was so large.
He reached out his hand.
Something I had never seen before twisted his face.
Panic.
“Give me the gun.”
“Never.”
“Quill!”
“No!”
He wanted to lunge at me, but I pressed my hand against his chest and held the clutch away from us, looking determinedly into his glassy eyes as his jaw worked.
“I won't give you that gun.”
His gaze was unreadable, tense, as if a battle was raging inside him.
“Why are you doing this...”
The answer was obvious, hanging between us.
“Don't worry.” Once again, my eyes turned into lakes of glass. “I'm too cowardly to pull the trigger.”
Something inside him froze. Panic was now clearly written on his face, as if my words had done the exact opposite of what I had intended.
“I'll destroy it.”
With those words, I didn't hesitate any longer, turned around with my heart pounding, and hurried to the hatch, which I hastily pulled open.
“Quill. Please, give it to me, and we'll do this together, but...”
Davian followed me, but I threw the clutch down into the empty attic.
“No.”
I stepped onto the ladder, ready to put as much distance between us as possible, because his presence prevented me from forming even one clear thought.
He knelt in front of me, wrapped his hand around mine, forcing me to pause a quarter of the way down the ladder.
“Please, Davian... Let me go.”
He looked at me with anguish, and it hurt me to leave him alone on a goddamn roof with his demons, but something inside me knew that he would understand and not do anything rash, even though paranoia was now creeping up on me.
“Let’s talk and destroy it together, please.”
His words took away my paranoia, even though his hand clasped mine more desperately.
He wouldn't do anything rash.
More voices invaded my mind.
He needs you.
But how could I be there for him when I was a sinking ship myself?
“If you give me time...”
A tear escaped from his right eye, stole around the dot-like irregularity beneath his skin, and he swallowed again. However, he let go of my hand, albeit hesitantly.
I knew that if I stayed any longer, I would climb back up to him and pull him into my arms. I would kiss him, so desperately, as if I could kiss the hope back into him. So I broke eye contact, hurried down the ladder, grabbed the clutch with sweaty fingers, and disappeared from the attic.
I ran far too fast down the hallway, down the next side staircase, and through the next hallway. So fast that I didn't notice until it was too late that someone was stepping into my path.
I couldn't avoid him and crashed right into the man in front of me.
If betraying you is the only way
to save you from my destruction,
don't expect sincerity from me.
It's a deeply rooted instinct,
forcing me to cross that line.
Over and over again.
– Leaking Batteries Diary