Page 12 of Boyfriend From Hell

Wiggling out from behind the sweet girl I had wrapped in my arms should have been a sin all on its own.

Part of me felt embarrassed that I’d woken her up with my night terrors—though, technically, they were hers.

Love, was at times, a thankless job, and I’d made a career out of figuring out how to reach Deer over the last few years.

My heart lurched knowing I would have to unwind myself from her, the last batch of hours with her made me feel less lonely for the first time in well—my whole life, honestly.

It sounded creepier than it really was, it wasn’t like I had been stalking her.

Just more so listening to her thoughts every waking moment I could.

I’d be lying if I said it hadn’t become a slight obsession, but I couldn’t get enough of her.

Despite her heartbroken thoughts about the waste of space that broke her, her mind was the most beautiful thing I’d ever had the pleasure of exploring.

I debated whether or not to plant a small kiss on the top of her head. I mean it was right there, and I really wanted to, but I knew that would be off-putting even if she was still sound asleep. Besides, I had to get this plan into motion.

It’s not like she was going to drag herself to Hell.

I scooted myself out from behind her in probably the most unflattering way imaginable—hooking a leg over the back of the couch and hauling myself up and over the backrest. Safe to say, I was glad no one was around to witness that.

I could smell her on my clothes. The hoodie I’d worn over here now carried a light floral scent—probably her laundry detergent. Either way, I was enamored by the smell and wanted nothing more than to bury my face into it.

Calm down, stop being weird! I scolded myself.

This is no big deal, she seemed to like me well enough.

Well, it didn’t just seem like it, I could read it plain as day in her mind.

She was into me—whether she wanted to admit it or not.

Or rather, whether she’d allow herself to admit it.

I scoffed and shook my head; I really needed to stop with this business of talking to myself.

I stole a glance over my shoulder, half worried Deer would suddenly wake up, open her door, and catch me—key in lock—at my front door, realizing I’d lied. (But hey, I wouldn’t be much of a devil if I didn’t lie every now and then, would I?)

My apartment was shamefully bare, with nothing but a mattress on the floor. I didn’t care much for human furnishings; they just needed everything to be so damn soft all the time. It drove me nuts.

Shadows began to swirl around my feet and spill from my palms, it was nearly midday—I needed it to be dark to make this work.

Was it a good plan? No. Not really. But it was as good a plan as any.

Whether or not I’d regret what I was about to do… Well, that was debatable.