Page 45
Story: The Road to Ruined
"Are you beautiful?" I ask. "Dec—"
"I swear to fuck, if you're about to say Declan's name again I'll—"
"Well, are you? Beautiful?"
"Beauty is subjective."
"Do you have scars?"
"I have a lot of them, but not on my face."
"Do you think I'm beautiful?" I ask.
"You know you're beautiful, Teagan."
"But beauty is subjective," I repeat.
"What's your point?"
"I don't know ifyouthink I'm beautiful."
"Yeah, Teagan. I think you're really fucking beautiful."
I climb into his lap, straddling his waist, and he slides his hands over my thighs. "You want me to be more grateful?"
"Yes."
"Well, you're already clothed. Maybe I can feed you."
I bring the vodka bottle to the creepy smile on the front of the gold mask and pour, letting it run down the front of his body. Hequickly shoves me off of his lap and onto the floor, and I fall hard on my ass, laughing.
"What the fuck?!"
"Oh wait, you don't have afucking mouth—I forgot."
"God damn it, Teagan!" he shouts, pacing back and forth in front of the room. "I should choke the fucking life out of you! What is wrong with you?"
"I don't know," I tell him. "Declan said there was noth—"
"What the fuck did I tell you?!" he screams. "Stop fucking saying his name!"
"I can't!" I cry. "I would if I could, but I can't! I'm fuckingtraumatized!And I'm mad at you for…"
For hurting me, and for not at least having skin I can touch or lips I can kiss. I can't say any of that because it won't matter, so I don't.
He sighs, then walks over and sits down beside me on the floor. "I'm sorry that this is your life now but…it is. And tomorrow won't be that bad. They're bad people, Teagan. And they won't see you coming—just like those guys in the alley. That's your superpower."
He reaches for me and runs his fingers over my cheek, but it's just a glove, and it makes me feel worse.
"We're bad people, too."
"We're all just animals," he says. "And I like it when you show your teeth. It's when you're the most yourself; it's when you're the most beautiful."
I lean into his shoulder, burying my head in his neck. "That's not when I'm the most myself, though. We're the rawest versions of ourselves when we're vulnerable, and I'm almost never that—not out loud anyway. And look what I have to show for the one and only time I felt safe enough to be that person."
I sigh, breathing deeply when I do. He smells good in this tiny space right here; he's wearing cologne. He must care about beinga person to some extent if he put forth the effort to do that. I inhale again, nuzzling my face further into his neck. My nose pushes past the base of the mask, and I feel it—bare skin against my nose and my top lip. I part my lips and press them against his throat, kissing him, tasting salty sweat on my tongue. I run it over the small space and feel his pulse racing against my lips. His breath catches, and a hand closes tightly around my arm.
"Teagan, stop."
"I swear to fuck, if you're about to say Declan's name again I'll—"
"Well, are you? Beautiful?"
"Beauty is subjective."
"Do you have scars?"
"I have a lot of them, but not on my face."
"Do you think I'm beautiful?" I ask.
"You know you're beautiful, Teagan."
"But beauty is subjective," I repeat.
"What's your point?"
"I don't know ifyouthink I'm beautiful."
"Yeah, Teagan. I think you're really fucking beautiful."
I climb into his lap, straddling his waist, and he slides his hands over my thighs. "You want me to be more grateful?"
"Yes."
"Well, you're already clothed. Maybe I can feed you."
I bring the vodka bottle to the creepy smile on the front of the gold mask and pour, letting it run down the front of his body. Hequickly shoves me off of his lap and onto the floor, and I fall hard on my ass, laughing.
"What the fuck?!"
"Oh wait, you don't have afucking mouth—I forgot."
"God damn it, Teagan!" he shouts, pacing back and forth in front of the room. "I should choke the fucking life out of you! What is wrong with you?"
"I don't know," I tell him. "Declan said there was noth—"
"What the fuck did I tell you?!" he screams. "Stop fucking saying his name!"
"I can't!" I cry. "I would if I could, but I can't! I'm fuckingtraumatized!And I'm mad at you for…"
For hurting me, and for not at least having skin I can touch or lips I can kiss. I can't say any of that because it won't matter, so I don't.
He sighs, then walks over and sits down beside me on the floor. "I'm sorry that this is your life now but…it is. And tomorrow won't be that bad. They're bad people, Teagan. And they won't see you coming—just like those guys in the alley. That's your superpower."
He reaches for me and runs his fingers over my cheek, but it's just a glove, and it makes me feel worse.
"We're bad people, too."
"We're all just animals," he says. "And I like it when you show your teeth. It's when you're the most yourself; it's when you're the most beautiful."
I lean into his shoulder, burying my head in his neck. "That's not when I'm the most myself, though. We're the rawest versions of ourselves when we're vulnerable, and I'm almost never that—not out loud anyway. And look what I have to show for the one and only time I felt safe enough to be that person."
I sigh, breathing deeply when I do. He smells good in this tiny space right here; he's wearing cologne. He must care about beinga person to some extent if he put forth the effort to do that. I inhale again, nuzzling my face further into his neck. My nose pushes past the base of the mask, and I feel it—bare skin against my nose and my top lip. I part my lips and press them against his throat, kissing him, tasting salty sweat on my tongue. I run it over the small space and feel his pulse racing against my lips. His breath catches, and a hand closes tightly around my arm.
"Teagan, stop."
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