34. THIRTY-FOUR
THIRTY-FOUR
The living room air is suffocating. The fireplace is way too hot despite the heavy snowstorm outside. We might have a power outage, since the lights have been flickering every now and then.
Still, Finn and I are watching TV on the couch. Sitting with his legs spread, I’m nestled between them and pressed up against him all tight. Even doing something as mundane as this, he’s got a death grip on me as if I could go anywhere.
“You’re q-quiet, bunny.” He mumbles into my neck, the flesh there marred with hickeys and bite marks. “More than usual… Are you okay?”
“Just thinking.”
“Wanna talk about it?”
“Not really.”
Even without seeing his face, I know Finn frowns. “Bunny…”
“It’s my parents. I was… thinking about it. After we talked earlier,” I groan, “and I guess I’m kind of in the same boat. I mean… my parents weren’t as bad as yours, probably. But… Ugh.”
He shrugs, playing with the fabric of the cream sweater he gave me. “I hate your parents,” he says matter of factly—as though I should’ve known that. “They’re horrible. J-Just horrible…”
“You don’t even know them.”
“So? I know what they did to you. Anyone who could do that to my bunny…” Finn trails off before shaking his head. “Don’t like them. It’s like how you feel about my dad.”
I want to lecture him, and tell him how wrong he is. But he really isn’t—our parents aren’t that dissimilar. Plus, his vehement reaction is a lot more inviting than I want it to be. Not even Haley was that upset, and she’s known me for way longer than Finn has.
“I guess.” Leaving it at that, I flip around and nuzzle into him with a weary huff. My body goes on auto-pilot mode and kisses the top of his head, the same way you would to a cute cat or something.
He practically freezes on the spot, processing it before looking up at me with the sweetest eyes. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was an angel. “Mmh…” he whimpers, squeezing me tighter. “Duncan…”
“W-What?”
“Can we kiss?”
Without so much as a second thought I reposition myself so my hands rest on his shoulders, tracing tender circles around his shirt. The man underneath me is not the kind of man I ever thought I’d be interested in in any capacity.
Unkempt hair. Clingy. Old ass clothes that he probably doesn’t wash enough. It’s all the opposite of the kind of man I thought I’d end up with—not that I really thought about that in the first place.
He’s also not well, but that’s obvious. It’s not that I think he’s any of that horrible shit he calls himself, because I’d never think that about anyone. But clearly all the time he’s spent alone has messed with his head in more ways than one.
The funniest part of it all is that I don’t even give a fuck. Who else will ever love me this strongly? I’d compare anyone else I met to Finn whether I like it or not. Regardless of how this ends, he’s always going to be part of my life.
There’s barely a reason to fight it.
Shuddering underneath me, Finn squeezes my ass and pulls me closer. He’s being extra gentle with me, letting his fingertips dance around my bruised skin. “Bunny…” he mumbles, burying his nose in my neck. “I love you…”
Without saying it back, I affectionately run my digits through his hair. That seems to be enough, since he whimpers and nuzzles against me like the needy thing he is.
I’m so out of it all, gazing up at the ceiling while the TV plays quietly in the background. Nothing about it seems important until I hear my own name, which immediately captures my attention.
“Duncan Armette. Twenty-three years old with blond hair and brown eyes. Last seen at his apartment complex two weeks ago.” The anchorwoman speaks flatly, labelling out all this information about myself that I had almost forgotten.
Two weeks. Have I really been gone for two weeks?
Half a month of my life has been spent here?
With him? My attention shifts to Finn, and at first I don’t even realize that he’s gone completely still—staring at the screen in horror.
His grip is tighter than it was before, fingers sinking into my sides.
But he’s grinning. He’s smiling like a Cheshire cat at the news, at least until he realizes I'm looking at him. The smile is wiped clean off his face, replaced with something more sympathetic.
“They can’t have you.” He says it so calmly, as though it’s not completely insane. “They won’t have you. Y-You’re mine. My bunny. Only mine.”
This is insane. This is seriously mental. So why am I smiling at him? I’m not even trying to feel this way, but the intense expression he’s wearing gets me like nothing else ever has. Maybe I’m just as fucked as he is. I mean, I have to be—right?
I can’t even lie to myself anymore and pretend I’m still doing this because I want to live. I’m doing it because for the first time in a hot minute I actually feel something that isn’t the always-present feeling of wanting to actually die.
My mom always told me I wore my heart on my sleeve, and I guess that’s what I’m doing right now since Finn beams and kisses my cheek. “Say it, bunny. S-Say your mine.”
“...I’m yours.” The words come out small, all timid and unsure even though I’ve known it for a while. The minute I gave up trying to escape, I knew it was over. I’m as disgusted with myself as I’m elated to finally be honest about something. “I’m yours, Finn.”
“Do you love me?”
“What—? Finn…”
The crouch groans as he shifts, sitting up properly to hold me in his lap. He’s shorter, but right now he feels so much taller. “Do you love me, D-Duncan?”
“No—I… I just… I don’t know…”
That wolfish grin from before is back. Finn pulls me into a hungry kiss, teeth grazing my lower lip. “You don’t know? T-That’s better than saying no, isn’t it?”
Fuck.
It is better, isn’t it?
“It’s okay,” he laughs like the softest and sweetest man in the world—so innocent and pure despite being anything but. “I love you too, bunny. More than anything. More than anyone else ever could.”
“I know.”
“You know?”
I shut my eyes and melt into his embrace. Fighting is pointless. Fighting only hurts in the end, so I don’t want to fight anymore. For once in my life, I’d really like to be happy.