Page 35
Story: Little Nightmare
"The monster was born a prince, forced to live in the darkness in order to protect his bloodline.”
“Did he?”
“Did he what?”
“End up protecting it?”
My stomach lurched. “He almost lost it, but yes, it’s protected.”
“Good. I hate sad endings.”
"Then you’ll hate this story.”
She reached for me, and this time I let her run her fingertips over my chest. “Tell me anyway. Maybe it will help me deal with my sadness, maybe it will help you finally deal with yours.”
The arrow hit the mark.
How did she know?
How did she see it?
"Unresolved sadness,” she whispered, trailing her finger down my chest and up again, “masquerades as anger—it’s why you wanted me to yell at you, to react in the moment. I knew it even though I couldn’t compartmentalize anymore, even though I hated you for it—still hate you for it because I know you’ll keep doing it—but you have a lot of anger too—it’s hard trying to decide what box each emotion fits into.”
I ignored her. “The monster believed the lie; he stepped into the sun and embraced his future—with her.”
"Which hand?” Raven asked.
“Pardon?” I searched her eyes.
“The knife.” Raven whispered. “Which hand did she use, her right or her left?”
Frowning, I answered. “She’s right handed, but she used her left, why?”
Raven let out a rough exhale. “The truth might hurt.”
"I have no heart left to break.”
She smirked. “Okay.”
“Tell me.”
I was suddenly ravenous for her to keep speaking. Was this part of her charm? Part of her spell? Was I in over my head? Why the hell did I agree to even lie in bed with her when I’d clearly put up boundaries? When I even swore I wouldn’t touch another woman for the rest of my life?
Untrusting.
Cruel.
Liars.
Fuck, I wish I liked men.
No, that was just loneliness speaking.
“So?” I grabbed her hand and gently pushed her away from my scars. “What’s the verdict?”
She swallowed and gripped my hand. I let her, only out of curiosity. Her skin was soft. I felt nothing.
I lied to myself when my heart began to thud against my chest.
“Did he?”
“Did he what?”
“End up protecting it?”
My stomach lurched. “He almost lost it, but yes, it’s protected.”
“Good. I hate sad endings.”
"Then you’ll hate this story.”
She reached for me, and this time I let her run her fingertips over my chest. “Tell me anyway. Maybe it will help me deal with my sadness, maybe it will help you finally deal with yours.”
The arrow hit the mark.
How did she know?
How did she see it?
"Unresolved sadness,” she whispered, trailing her finger down my chest and up again, “masquerades as anger—it’s why you wanted me to yell at you, to react in the moment. I knew it even though I couldn’t compartmentalize anymore, even though I hated you for it—still hate you for it because I know you’ll keep doing it—but you have a lot of anger too—it’s hard trying to decide what box each emotion fits into.”
I ignored her. “The monster believed the lie; he stepped into the sun and embraced his future—with her.”
"Which hand?” Raven asked.
“Pardon?” I searched her eyes.
“The knife.” Raven whispered. “Which hand did she use, her right or her left?”
Frowning, I answered. “She’s right handed, but she used her left, why?”
Raven let out a rough exhale. “The truth might hurt.”
"I have no heart left to break.”
She smirked. “Okay.”
“Tell me.”
I was suddenly ravenous for her to keep speaking. Was this part of her charm? Part of her spell? Was I in over my head? Why the hell did I agree to even lie in bed with her when I’d clearly put up boundaries? When I even swore I wouldn’t touch another woman for the rest of my life?
Untrusting.
Cruel.
Liars.
Fuck, I wish I liked men.
No, that was just loneliness speaking.
“So?” I grabbed her hand and gently pushed her away from my scars. “What’s the verdict?”
She swallowed and gripped my hand. I let her, only out of curiosity. Her skin was soft. I felt nothing.
I lied to myself when my heart began to thud against my chest.
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