Chapter 9 Alice #2
That guilty feeling of attraction to someone not pre-selected for me still lives deep in my chest, nipping at me.
But I think whatever monster makes me feel that way is shocked into submission by Emily’s touch, especially when she drags her hand slightly higher, the motion exposing a sliver of my midriff.
Her skin directly on mine makes the small hairs on my entire body stand on end, and I know she notices.
“Are you afraid right now?” I ask, because I honestly can’t tell. But over the past week, I’ve realized she enjoys it when I bite back at her questions or reply to hers with a cutting remark. She likes the fight, and I want her to like me right now.
Even if that’s a terrible idea.
“Of the ocean?” she asks, her touch slightly higher now, skating against the bottom of my ribcage. The little smile on her lips tells me she knows that’s not what I’m asking.
“Yes, of the ocean,” I breathe, trying to maintain my composure.
Part of me hates that she’s so in control, so seemingly unaffected, while I can feel my bones being rattled by her touch.
But the other part of me doesn’t hate it at all.
That other, smaller, louder part of me desperately craves to feel vulnerable around someone who won’t take advantage of it.
Who I know will take care of everything without seeing me as weak for it.
For some reason, like the delusion of a wretched, dying animal, I’ve come to believe Emily could be that for me.
“I think you’ve cured me,” she says, her hand now at the small of my back, like she’s a hair’s breadth away from lifting me closer to her. “Right now, I’m not afraid of anything. Are you, Pecas?”
Against my better judgement, I lift myself up onto my toes and bring myself closer to her, watching her eyes turn hungry. This is what attraction is supposed to look like, I think to myself as she scans my face, tracing every dip and line.
“Maybe I like being a little afraid of you.” Even though it’s true, I’m not sure when I realized it.
There’s something alluring about the fact that she is stronger and smarter than me, that if she wanted to, she could hurt me.
That she doesn’t want to. I’d put all the money in my pocket on the belief that hurting me is the last thing in the world Emily wants to do.
It’s delusional. Certainly naive. But I want to believe it so badly that I see it written all over her face.
She leans down, so much taller than me it must be an inconvenience.
My eyes flutter closed when she’s only a breath away, her lips so close to mine I can feel the heat of them.
Everything else has faded away, and the places where we’re touching, or almost touching, are the only things that exist. The sound of her breath and my own heartbeat are the only things in my ears.
It hits me that I want her to touch me. Not just a kiss, not just a brief touch of skin. Those are things I shared with Ilya. I want more—I want what he never wanted to take, even when I offered. What I’ve had with no one else.
If I’m going to die, I want to want. And to be wanted in return.
Emily’s so close, her lips brushing mine like she’s savoring every second. Her hand is pressed firmly into my back now, so steady and warm. On instinct, I run my tongue along the back of my teeth, a nervous habit.
And stop.
“Wait,” I say, slipping my fingers from hers and stepping back. She straightens immediately, moving further away from me as well.
“I’m sorry,” she immediately says, her hands going behind her back like she’s punishing herself. “We’re working together, I shouldn’t have…”
“No,” I cut her off, trying to figure out how I’m going to get around this particular issue. She can’t kiss me, even though I want it more than most things I’ve wanted in my life. “I just…I’ve never kissed someone before.”
The lie slips out easily, like the dozens of others I’ve told her, but it feels worse. It sits in my stomach like a little lead ball, rolling around and filling me with poison.
Emily’s face is understandably shocked. We’re about the same age, and I imagine she’s plenty…experienced. The thought makes my skin feel sunburnt.
“You’ve…”
“Never been kissed, yeah, I know it’s strange,” I rush out, trying to use the pieces of truth I’ve allowed from my past to fill in a backstory. “I was sheltered, and my parents were very strict. I’ve been pretty isolated since I moved to the States.”
“Oh, okay I guess that makes sense,” she says warily, running her hand through her hair. The lightning feeling from before comes back when her gaze snags on my exposed hip, from where her hand was. “I apologize if I pushed too far.”
No, please, push further, I want to say aloud.
I don’t know how to get her to keep touching me without kissing her.
Because I don’t want to give up the feeling of her skin on mine, but I also don’t trust myself not to kill her if she kisses me.
I fear that, with her mouth on mine, I might accidentally break the capsule of rattlesnake poison hidden in a false cap in my back molar that’s saved for someone special.
The pleasure of dying by my lips is for Ilya alone.
“I liked it,” I say, my voice desperate as I take a step closer to her. She’s cautious with her gaze now, but I still catch her looking at my lips. I know what indifference looks like. Emily is not indifferent to me. “I liked how it felt when you touched me.”
I take one step closer to her, nerves and guilt and anticipation building in my stomach as she lets me draw nearer. Apparently I’m going to ask everything of Emily. To be the only person I tell my truths to. To have her be the first and last person to touch me. To die because of me.
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“Did you?” she asks. I can’t tell if she’s really unsure, or she’s pressing me to admit more.
“I did,” I admit quietly, reaching for her hand and gently placing it back on my exposed skin. Her fingers flex like she feels the electric current too.
“Do you want me to touch you more?” Emily asks, her hand completely still as she waits for my reaction. I nod, victory sweeping through my chest as she moves closer.
“And you don’t want me to kiss you?”
I shake my head and she leans down again, her mouth so close to mine I consider taking the risk and hoping I have more control than I know I do.
“Just your mouth?” she asks, and I don’t move, because I’m not sure what she’s asking. She waits a few beats. “Am I allowed to kiss you anywhere else?”
The electric current is so strong I feel myself shaking, but that’s not what makes me nod yes. It’s the thought of Emily’s mouth anywhere, everywhere. She’s so methodical, so exact. I wonder how she’d be with my body as the research subject.
I really hope I’m about to find out.