Chapter Thirty-Four
Maverick.
I wake to a light dusting of snow on my window, Raven curled in my arms, her thigh over mine, head on my chest, hand tucked underneath my torso, warm and snuggly like a kitten. I kiss her forehead, whisps of hair stick to my lips and as I try to get out of bed, she only holds me closer.
Fuck my jog.
I stay in, with her, on this cold, November morning, watching the flurry of snowflakes outside of my window as they land lazily, accumulating.
It hardly ever snowed in my small town of Adelaide, Texas.
When it did, even an inch of snow, everything shut down.
Texans had no idea how to drive in the snow.
Driving through tornado-like weather with surging rain that pounded so hard you could barely see through the windshield was fine.
.. snow? Absolutely not. I will say it took me a few years after moving North on the East Coast to get used to the peaceful silence snow brought.
I look down at my angel to my left, pale skin, black lashes, silver and dark hair, her perfect lips a dusty pink contrast, beautiful, quiet, peaceful. A thing my soul can no longer live without. Even in the arms of two others, she still feels irrevocably mine.
It’s safe to say I’m also hers. She owns me.
I can hear the timer on my Keurig downstairs, letting me know my morning coffee cup is ready, and when she hears it, she moves her head, and the soft kisses she places on my chest, the soft strands of her hair drag softly along my torso, tickling and all it makes me wish for, it that the morning was just a little longer.
That I could stay here, in limbo, with my own Persephone, if she’d have me as her Hades.
Brown eyes blink up at me, and my heart caves inside my chest, filling me with an emotion I never thought I’d be able to feel. Never be lucky enough for it to linger even after the stark revelation that I… I love her.
Damon and Jonas say it so freely to her, as though it’s second nature, making sure she always knows and feels loved while I’ve been hesitant.
Yes, sex with her is otherworldly, and having her in my arms feels wonderful, but here, now, with her brows furrowed, caramel gaze locked on mine, swimming in my t-shirt, under my blankets, leaving her scent on my pillows and in my sheets, I can’t think of a future without her.
Without hearing her cello playing from the other room, or how loudly she plays my vinyl’s on my record player downstairs in our study, catching her reading, letting me settle in behind her to read with her, even having dinner with the others, she sits by me and holds my hand, listening to every word I say, showing me she is dedicated, making me feel important as though…
Am I delusional enough to believe she could love a cold bastard like me?
Commanding and anal-retentive, and fucking rude?
I call her mute and tongueless , by God.
She should hate me. She should shudder at my touch and be repulsed and yet…
she lays here, perched upon my chest, looking at me as though she could maybe, quite possibly love me, too.
Something twists in my gut and I have to leave here. I have to get out of her presence even though everything in me tells me to skip today, to stay in bed with her, fuck the students. I’ve never taken a day off. I deserve one.
But the other part of me, the one that’s crawling for the need to get away from her, from here, to think, to push past all of this, and just fucking go somewhere, anywhere, is what has me pushing her off me like the bastard I am and rushing to get my coffee downstairs that’s probably cold now and when I do, I give one last glance over my shoulder to see she’s sitting up and watching me, hugging her knees now at her chest, ankles crossed, hair cascading over her shoulder and arm like a chocolate waterfall and fuck I have to get out of here before my heart stops beating.
“ Coffee ,” is all I can fucking croak out because I am the toad and she is whatever princess it is that kisses the fucking frog but I’m no prince.
She kisses me and I’m still a fucking toad.
It’s war in my heart and in my head as I head down to my kitchen, Damon already down there, sipping my coffee in some fancy mug he brought, scrolling through his tablet, telling me he’s reading the news.
“Hope you don’t mind. I went ahead and made you one as well.
Your favorite flavor. The Texas Praline. ”
I inhale sharply, look at the fucking Keurig and see he also purchased a fancy thermos-like mug for myself and all I can say is, “Thank you,” as I grab the mug and sit at the table across from him when his phone vibrates.
I hear mine chime upstairs at the same time.
I arch a brow as he pales.
“Everything okay?”
He clears his throat and takes another sip, eyes like slivers of a cloudy moon peer at me over his mug and when he swallows, they shoot over my shoulder, to which I hear both Jonas and Raven coming down the stairs in their uniforms, ready for another day at Rayne-Moore.
“It would seem the Dean had a cardiac arrest after finding his son and daughter-in-law’s bodies in their home this morning. ”
“Fuck, that’s heavy.” Jonas whooshes as goes to the pantry, pulling out bagels and then to the toaster, splitting them to toast them evenly. Raven goes over and kisses Damon good morning, lips lingering on his, and even though I should feel jealousy, I don’t. It should hurt and yet it never has.
“Good morning, Amourette. Did you sleep well?”
Another kiss before she makes her and Jonas a cup of Joe, and I can almost taste it. How the mint of her toothpaste would mingle with the taste of my coffee.
Jonas plops down on the chair beside me just as Raven sits on the other side of me, taking a bagel, and overly smothering it with cream cheese, completely spread evenly so no bite is lacking and then grabs the other half and makes it into a sandwich.
Jonas copies her with a smirk, muttering “genius,” under his breath and when he’s done, he simply turns to Damon. “So are classes canceled?”
Damon shakes his head. “No, but I may just visit after my last session today, he’s in the ICU at Lorne Wood.”
Raven makes a movement with her hands for the word rose .
“Yes, Amourette, I will be sure to take him some flowers for you.”
After Jonas and Raven leave for a study session before classes at the library, Damon leaves as well, his first session before classes.
I take my time to get ready, taking in the opportunity to take the trash out, grabbing the bags from the garage, one of them smelling particularly of dead blood, which doesn’t rouse me.
What should have roused me was that it was a white bag, and not the black ones we use but I pay it no mind.
Damon cooks a lot of meat, feeding us nightly except for the weekends he comes back late, which is usually Friday and Saturday nights when they go to Jonas’ games or take Raven on a date.
I have yet to take her on one.
No idea why.
They nurture and care for her in ways that I simply do not and… and if I want her to love me, I probably should. Shouldn’t I? I should show her that I love her. She’s one of actions, seeing as she still hasn’t spoken to me, only signing when others are in the room.
Does she still not trust me?
I shove that and all other thoughts of her aside as I get ready for work, dressing as warmly as I can in slacks and a sports coat, bundling up in a scarf, overcoat, and a beanie.
Raven’s beanie. She’s everywhere. All over my house.
Even in my car. Books, hair ties, .5 mm ballpoint pens…
I secretly love it. I adore being able to inhale in any room of my house and know she was there.
The traffic is light, the fog thick, the snow now a sleet as the sun rises, heating the earth.
It’s the Monday after the Homecoming Ball that Raven didn’t get to enjoy as much since she left early due to a headache and her leg hurting after dancing with Mr. Anderson and her stepbrother and then fucking Jonas in the garden.
Yes, I did get to watch that happen. I should remind Jonas to be more careful but watching them is always titillating.
Hearing how she gasps when Jonas praises and degrades her, fucking her roughly, not giving a damn if they get caught.
She tried to play off the pain in her leg, only grimacing every now and then, but I knew it must have really been bothering her when she returned from the restroom and kept grabbing at her leg, like she was trying to make sure it was still attached.
When they left, I wanted to leave, too, but unfortunately, faculty members were to stay until at least eleven, after they crowned the King and Queen.
They were students I didn’t know and didn’t want to know.
They spun around the room to an old school waltz, perfectly, as though they’d taken ballroom lessons for years and a part of me simmered with both envy and rage that they were given that type of opportunity.
To just have all of this at their feet since birth while some of us (me) had to fight tooth and nail to get here.
I really don’t think I’ll be back at RMU after this next semester. I need a less elite kind of university to go to. I wonder if Raven still has eyes for New York. How easy that transition would be, from here to there, to teach at NYU or any of its sister schools. I remind myself to ask her later.
By the time I arrive and park at the campus, I have fifteen minutes to get to class, where my students are already waiting outside of my door for me to unlock and open up. While they settle in I decide to text Damon.
Me: I’ll come with you to visit Whitmore.
Dr. Dick: My last session is at 2 and visiting hours are over at 5.
Me: I won’t get out of here until at least 5:30.
Dr. Dick: Next time.
I darken my screen and focus on my students, bored already, pull down the screen, turn out the lights, and let the interviewed recording of Ted Bundy play.
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