Chapter 12 #2
Even as I wanted to talk to her about the book, point out my favorite parts, and the characters I hated, I stayed silent, watching her reaction carefully.
That tiny, niggling feeling of something different bubbled to the surface again when Stella looked back at me, the book still in hand. ‘It’s funny. I feel like I’ve been here for a lifetime already.’
I smirked. ‘I did tell you that time works differently here. It stretches differently than it does on Earth. Some things will feel a lot longer than you’re used to, and other things will fly by.’
‘Oh.’ Her careful brown eyes clouded over, and she wasn’t looking at me any more, but past me. I could practically hear the thoughts burning in her brain as she processed.
I had a feeling Stella was used to picking up a lot more information than she let on. A useful talent to have here, for sure, but I desperately wanted to know what she was carefully filing me away as.
Was I the monster under the bed made whole, stealing her away from her comfortable life? Or was it too much to ask to be the hero, saving her from an endless loop of monotony and complacency?
There was that feeling again. Hope.
‘What are you thinking about?’ The words came out harsher than I meant them. I was going to have to work on my mannerisms around her. I was out of practice having to be polite.
Stella pushed a loose lock of hair out of her face, only for it to promptly fall back into place. It would be too much for me to tuck it behind her ear for her, wouldn’t it?
‘Nothing much, really. Just trying to figure out where I fit into this whole time thing. Does it feel like I’ve been here forever or seconds to you?’
‘Both.’ You’ve taken up residence in my mind for far longer than you could ever imagine, I fear.
She turned, clutching the book to her chest like a lifeline, and took a deep breath. ‘I came to find you because I felt bad about how angry you got at dinner. I feel like it was my fault.’
I frowned. ‘You feel like it was your fault for me losing my temper? I’m pretty sure it doesn’t work like that, Bambi.’
‘You wouldn’t be annoyed or on edge if the Council hadn’t shown up, and they only showed up because I’m causing problems. So, yes, I’m sorry.’
‘You’re here because of me.’ Her convoluted logic made my head spin. I hadn’t realized quite how far a guilt complex could run. How could she spin being in my debt for eternity into her fault?
‘Maybe.’ She sighed, biting her lip, and I wondered what it would be like to sink my own teeth into her soft skin.
Would she like it? Would she sigh with pleasure, and beg me for more?
‘Maybe it would be easier for everyone if you just took it. Give the Council what they want so they’ll leave you alone. It’s not like I really have a choice, after all. You made that pretty clear.’
And there it was. The subtle resentment I knew she harbored, disguised behind some good manners and excitement over a book.
I should’ve known better than to think a few drops of good would outweigh the bad.
I leaned back against the hard shelf as I pinched my nose. ‘Don’t start this, Stella. I’m not in a great mood, and I don’t want to go over this again.’
‘But, I—’ She looked up at me with those bright brown eyes, wide and sincere.
I would do anything for her. I’d give her the world if she asked. But I wouldn’t do this.
‘No,’ I snapped. If she wouldn’t let go willingly, I’d have to force her to understand why it was such a bad idea.
‘I told you to drop it. I told Agatha to drop it. You don’t understand what’s at stake here.
You don’t understand anything. You’re na?ve at best. So stop fucking picking.
I’m not taking your soul and that’s final. ’
I watched as my words cut deep, watching as they hit their mark. Her once open and vulnerable eyes shuttered, and her full lips pressed into a tight line. Stella gripped the book in her hand and turned away from me.
‘I’m going to bed. I wanted to make sure you were okay after dinner, and obviously, you’re doing just fine without any outside influence, so I’ll leave you to it.’ She stomped past me, a deep red flush spreading across her cheeks. From anger or embarrassment, I couldn’t tell. Maybe both.
Regardless, it was my fault. I’d wanted to push her away – from me, from losing her soul, from the truth – but now a strange sense of guilt took root inside my chest. Stella didn’t deserve the anger that should’ve been directed toward me.
She was leaving now, storming away from me, and I had no one to blame except myself.
‘Fuck.’ I grabbed her wrist, pulling her back. ‘I shouldn’t have said that.’
‘No,’ she snapped, still glaring. ‘You shouldn’t have.’
Stella was only a couple inches away from me, close enough, I could feel the brush of her chest as she heaved in angry breaths.
Her eyes churned with fury and anticipation. I found myself leaning closer, her scent intoxicating.
She pulled back, barely, but didn’t try and remove herself from my grip. Her emotions still burned a hole where I touched her. Would she slap me or kiss me?
For a moment, I let hope slip in.
Just a second. A blip of time.
I imagined her closing the distance, stretching on her toes to press her lips against me. My arms would wrap around her waist, crushing her close to me, and her hands would tangle in my hair. We’d lose ourselves in each other.
Maybe we’d find ourselves, too.
Neither of those things would happen, because when I focused back on Stella’s face once more, she was narrowing her eyes, as if she could see right through my mask.
‘I don’t like not knowing the whole story, Damien,’ she hissed.
‘I can’t tell you everything right now.’ It was a half-truth at best. I feared if I told her the whole truth, she’d run and lock herself in her bedroom and I’d never see her again, and I couldn’t let that happen. ‘You need to trust that I have your best interest in mind.’
Stella snatched her wrist out of my hand.
‘I don’t trust you. You brought me here on a lie, and I’ve been digging up the truth ever since.
Every time I think I maybe see a decent person in you, the next minute, you’re someone completely different.
You’ll protect me, and then you’re cold.
You’ll laugh with me, and then you’re cruel.
So no, Damien, I don’t trust you. I don’t even like you. ’
Her words hung in the air between us, almost thick enough I could poke holes in the words she didn’t say.
‘You don’t have to like me. You can even hate me, if it makes you feel better.
But please know I mean this much: I will burn this universe and the next before I let Clarissa lay a single finger on your soul. ’
Stella blinked, and I thought maybe she’d accept my half-assed apology, before she glared again.
‘I do hate you. I hate you for bringing me here. For making me leave Grace. But most of all, I hate you for making me think we might actually be friends. I’m nothing more to you than a pawn in some weird power struggle you have with Clarissa.
I don’t want it, Damien. I don’t want any of it. ’
She turned and left the room, the door slamming shut behind her. Alone once more. Alone like I’d been for countless lifetimes.
Alone, and it was my own fucking fault, just like it always was.
My instincts wanted me to destroy something. To lay siege into something until it was just as broken as I felt. But if Stella came back into the library for whatever reason and saw me demolishing books, I didn’t think I could handle that.
Instead, I slumped into one of the velvet armchairs, my head in my hands.
I’d wanted to push her away, and I’d succeeded.
I’d wanted to keep her safe, and so far, I’d done that, too.
But if I’d been so successful in protecting Stella, why did I feel like such a failure?
I was a mess, torn between giving her space and chasing after her to make sure she didn’t find herself in more trouble.
What was I doing? She didn’t even like me. She hated me. And the worst part was that I couldn’t even blame her. I wanted her to hate me. I wanted her to see me for who I really was.
It was just… I wanted her to feel and see all that and still come back. I looked toward the still closed door with a sigh. This was why hope was so fucking dangerous. No one seemed to notice the sharp edges of hope, jagged enough to leave a scar while they cut you from the inside out.
Watching Stella from afar had been one thing. I hadn’t realized how much the distance protected me from the deep-seated feelings quickly rising to the surface.
I didn’t have a soul, but if I had one, I was certain she’d be tattooed across it.
Of course, none of these feelings helped Stella.
I was cold, cruel, and had done far too many bad things in this world to be deserving of her presence.
Wasn’t that evident simply in the way I’d taken her, tricked her into coming here? What good person would do such a thing?
So once more, I tucked my budding feelings being my carefully constructed barriers, barring their existence with bricks and mortar.
There was one problem with bricks. Like everything else in this life, they were still fallible. They crack. Mortar was penetrable.
Things could still make their way inside.
She could still make her way inside.