Day 125
Eve
We’re somewhere in the south when we come across a deserted amusement park, and Adam gives me a single glance before swerving the car around toward the entrance.
“It’s a little creepy,” I admit as we walk past the gates.
The abandoned rides seem even more ominous, somehow, than deserted roads or buildings; the silence feels more pronounced.
Places that are supposed to be bustling with noise and activity, I’ve learned, are spookier than regular, day-to-day empty places.
“Maybe, but we should still definitely get on a few of these.” His eyes are bright with excitement as he leaps over the entrance barriers. He offers a hand to help me get past mine, and unlike our hike in the woods which feels like a lifetime ago, I accept it.
He doesn’t let go of me even after I climb past it. He’s busy admiring the rides all around us, his eyes shooting from one to another, as if he can’t get enough. As if he’s—
“You’ve never been to an amusement park,” I realize at last, the words tearing out of me with awe.
“Yup. This is my first time.” He throws me a smirk. “Be gentle, will you?”
“Is that why we’re holding hands?” I grin but don’t let his fingers go. We don’t walk around holding hands often, and I like the feeling of it. “Your virginity is safe with me.”
“Good.” He doesn’t let go, either. “So, what are we going on first? Talk me through it,” he teases.
I look around us before finally voicing my concern. “Are we actually going to get on those things?” My eyes focus on the closest ride: a Ferris wheel.
“Eve,” he says slowly. “Don’t tell me you’re scared of heights.”
“I’m not,” I protest. “Remember our hike?”
“I do remember.” His eyes narrow. “So why do you look like that?”
“Like what?” I struggle to swallow.
“Like you’re about to bolt out of here.” He inches closer. “You are scared.”
“Scared is a bit of a reach,” I defend myself. “I’m just… worried.”
“About the height we’ll be at,” he completes.
“It’s not about the height, it’s about the—machinery,” I wave around us. “Those things need upkeep. Who knows how rusty they’ve become? What if we get stuck? There’s been no inspections or safety checks for a while now. Maybe the electricity isn’t even—”
The rest of my words turn into a yelp as he hooks his arms behind my knees and throws me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
“Adam! Put me down,” I choke out as I feel the blood rushing down toward my head.
“Nope.” He wraps one hand around my legs, the other one gingerly splaying on my ass. “You’re going on this Ferris wheel.”
“We don’t even know how to operate it!” I protest.
“It can’t be that hard.” He shrugs, his shoulder bumping into my crotch. “It’s either on or off, right?”
Oh, god, I’m going to die on a fucking Ferris wheel.
“Relax.” He chuckles as he sets me down in the cabin. “It’s going to be fine.” He walks over to where the operator would be, observing the control board. “Come on, we gotta live a little.”
“Exactly,” I exclaim, “I’d like to keep living after tod—oh my god!”
The sudden jolt of the ride cuts me off, my hand instinctively grasping the sides of the cart.
“Huh,” he says peacefully. “Turns out it is just on or off.”
“You are not leaving me alone on this thing!” I shriek, knowing I’m unreasonably terrified, but the motion of the wheel slowly whirring to life is freaking me the fuck out. Is it supposed to be this fast? Oh, god, I’m already starting to gain distance from the ground.
“Of course I’m not.” He grins at me from below. “Catch me, okay?”
“What do you mean catch you—”
And then he leaps on the cart, holding onto it with his arms, swinging in the air as we gain more and more height.
“What the fuck are you doing?!”
“Not leaving you alone, that’s what.” His voice comes from behind the thin wall—is this thing made of plastic? He’s literally hanging on for dear life on a piece of—
“A little help, maybe?”
I reach a hand over the edge despite my raging heartbeat, and he wraps his palm around it, the touch of his fingers like a surge of power across my skin.
It must be the reason I feel strong enough to help him up as he climbs over the cabin, throwing his leg and torso into it and stumbling inside, a goofy grin plastered on his face as he lands right on top of me.
“Oops.”
“You’re fucking insane,” I mutter from under him.
“We were only a few feet above ground.” He rolls his eyes. “I wasn’t in actual danger.”
“Still insane.” I would have crossed my arms if they weren’t trapped beneath him.
“I just knew I could count on you to have my back,” he says without thought, and then both our eyes widen at the exact same time.
The memory courses in the air between us like a tangible being. The dirt road in the ass-crack of nowhere, Georgia, where I truly felt hurt by him for the first time.
Don’t count on me, you stupid girl. You need to watch your own back.
Looking back at it now, the words don’t hurt as much as they should. Maybe because I know the reason behind them.
“Because I’ve got yours,” Adam adds in a quiet voice, staring into my eyes, and there’s regret etched on every curve and contour of his face. “I’ve got you. Always. You know that, right?”
My heart’s stuck too hard in my throat to speak, so I just nod.
“I know you might not believe it. I don’t blame you.” He retreats from above me, rising to his feet, and I lament the loss of his warmth. “But since we’ve got… well, at least a few good years to kill”—his smile is gentler than usual—“I’ll just spend them proving it to you.”
“You don’t need to prove anything to me,” I manage to get out, mirroring him as he settles on the bench. He spreads his legs and motions in between them, so I move over, until my back is flush with his chest and his arms wrap around me.
“I do,” he hums into my ear. “But I don’t mind. I’ll do whatever it takes.” His lips ghost over the skin of my cheek. “For as long as it takes. For as long as forever lasts for us.”
We stay like that for a while; the slow spin of the wheel pauses when we reach the top, and if it wasn’t so foggy, I assume the view would have been amazing. I don’t care much for it, though. Not when his fingers start to trail over my chest, sparking my skin to life with goosebumps.
I open my mouth to ask what he’s doing, but he’s ahead of me. “Shh,” he coos, his lips ghosting my neck. “Let me.”
His fingertips brush gently over my breasts over my thin shirt, and even with two layers of separation, I can feel my nipples reacting, pulling taut and begging to be touched by him.
“Adam,” I let out shakily.
“I just want to make you feel good.” His whisper is soft, imploring. “This is just for you, okay?”
His meaning is clear. No sex. No expectation of reciprocation.
“If you want me to s—”
“No.” The word tears out. “Don’t stop.”
He kisses my neck slowly, lips pressing to my skin over and over, as his fingers make their way down the front of my body, sliding beneath the waistband of my pants.
“I never apologized for how I was at the beginning.” His fingertips move the lace of my underwear aside. “The things I said.”
“Y-you don’t have to.” I struggle to breathe the closer he gets to my clit.
“I didn’t bother because I felt like it’d be pointless. Words are useless.” He’s still not touching me where I want him to, where I’ve spent the last few weeks imagining him touching. Instead, his hand dips lower, to where my panties are sticking to my folds. “Saying ‘I’m sorry’ would do nothing.”
He has a point, and I would have voiced my agreement if he hadn’t chosen that moment to slide two fingers inside me, only pumping them in for a moment before moving them back up.
“I hope that my actions prove it, instead,” he says into my ear, my moan stopping me from talking, his touch on my clit making me arch my back against him.
“Not this, of course.” He chuckles and my huff is amused for a second, too, between my whimpers.
I like that we can joke, despite everything, even with his fingers rubbing my clit in delicious, blissful little circles.
“But I will spend forever proving it to you. I mean it.” He kisses my neck again, this time on the other side, over the bitemark that should be healed, now, but still pulses beneath his lips somehow. “I’ll show up for you. For us. Every day.”
His fingers pick up speed, my moans growing louder in return.
“When we build our home.” He bites my pulse point gently.
“When you decide you’re ready for us again.
” His other hand dips into my bra, finding my nipples eager and waiting.
“Whenever and however you’ll have me.” He twists the fingers of both his hands in tandem, making me cry out.
“Every day. Words don’t mean shit, but you don’t have to believe them, love. I’ll prove them to you.”
It doesn’t take long for him to bring me to a climax, giving me just enough pain mixed with pleasure, until I’m falling off the edge; I can feel my release soaking my underwear, and my nails dig into his forearms, riding it out until my body goes slack against his chest.
“We’re down,” he mentions softly as I catch my breath, and it takes me an embarrassingly long time to realize what he means. We’re back on the ground; physically, at least. Some part of me still feels elated, floating far higher than the top of the Ferris wheel.
I’m almost scared to turn around in his arms and face him, afraid of ruining it, of breaking some kind of spell.
His sweet smile when I do assures me I don’t ever have to worry about that. I never even knew his smile could be sweet. That his eyes could be so soft.
Whatever spell we were under lasts the entirety of that day as we roam around our empty playground.