seven #3
“I know I was born lucky!” Callisto screams, as he pokes my chest with one long, ringed finger, the paint on his nails starting to chip.
I freeze, my muscles locking into stone at the sudden impact.
“You don’t have to lecture me! I’m just one person. Me buying a sandwich for a homeless person isn’t going to cure systemic poverty, Leo! It’s not my fault, yet you’re standing there looking at me like I’m the one that caused it all!”
“I’m not asking you to fix the world,” I growl, closing the distance until his finger is crushed between our chests, my heart hammering against his hand.
I bite my tongue so hard, I taste copper, forcing down the desperate urge to scream that I was one of those fucking kids.
That a single, nameless drop of money was the reason I didn't die in an alley at sixteen.
“I’m saying you save the ones you can. One meal. One bed. One warm coat. It matters to the person who has nothing.”
Callisto’s mouth opens and closes, his red lips looking shiny with spit.
His jaw is flexing with the movements, strong muscles wrapping around bone, and I want to trace them with my tongue.
I’m angry, but my body is responding to being in such close proximity to him.
Our chests heave with deep breaths, rubbing against each other when we both inhale simultaneously.
“How do you know I don’t buy meals for homeless people?! You act like you know everything about me when you know absolutely nothing!”
Callisto's hot breath wraps around my face with each harsh word.
It smells minty and sweet, an odd mixture of toothpaste and breakfast.
I don't know how we got this close to each other, but we are now toe-to-toe, our noses inches away from one another.
My eyes drift to Callisto’s mouth over and over.
I don't know what my obsession is with his mouth, but I want to taste it.
“I know because you’re a fucking spoiled little brat who turns his pretty little nose up at the world as if everything else on the planet is beneath him.
You and your prissy little friends probably have gone on thousand dollar vacations and traveled the world on your yachts but have never seen the streets downtown. There is nothing special about you, nothing unique. You’re just a princess with a wallet as big as your ego.
You wouldn’t last a fucking day on these streets without daddy’s checkbook in your designer purse.”
There is so much ice in my tone, it could freeze the entire city twice.
Callisto looks down, a hurt expression ghosting over his face for a split second before it’s gone, quickly replaced by anger.
His nostrils flare, and I can’t help but smile because I obviously struck a nerve.
“Yeah? Well, you’re an imperious criminal who has made all of his money off the injustices of the system. Everything you have can be attributed to the atrocities you’ve committed. You’ve not only taken the lives of people,
but you’ve also taken the lives of their family when their children wonder why their dad never came home. You act like you’re so much better than me because you know the streets, but the reality of it is that you’re not better than anyone. You’re the lowest of the low. You’re not even a human.
You’re a monster among men. I may be lucky with how I got my money, but at least I didn’t steal it from people who earned it or take it from the payroll of an evil man,” Callisto responds coolly.
The sting of his words feel like a slap in the face, the air visibly leaving my body.
Does he remember who he's talking to? Does he remember what I am capable of?
I’m so mad, and all I want to do is shut Callisto up, so I do.
I lunge for him, wrapping my hands around his pretty, tanned neck.
I squeeze, watching his eyes as they bug out in surprise.
He freezes, not moving a single inch. We stare at each other, neither of us breathing for entirely different reasons. He can’t. I won’t.
Instead of applying more pressure, I use his throat as leverage and bring his lips to mine.
The breath leaves Callisto’s nose and hits my cheek.
His lips are everything I thought they would be, warm and soft.
He tastes like toothpaste and syrup, and I moan, deepening the kiss.
A few seconds later or it could be hours, I come to my senses and push him away forcefully.
Callisto’s eyes are wide as his hips hit the counter behind him. He grabs his throat in the exact same place my hands were wrapped around it moments ago. His other hand touches his lips as if he can’t believe what just happened.
I wipe my mouth, almost disgusted with myself for both doing it and enjoying it so much.
My dick hardens in my pants, and my breath is coming out in quick, sharp huffs.
What the fuck just happened? One minute we were arguing and the next we were kissing while I choked him. Is the room spinning or is it my head?
I can’t do this. I have to get out. I can’t continue being in the same room as Callisto.
I can’t. I don’t even glance in his direction as I shove my feet into my boots then slam the door behind me, making sure it’s locked.
I don't remember what I said to the guard outside, and I don’t care.
I need to get as far away from the house and Callisto as possible.