Page 76 of The Destruction You Desire

"Oh my God, it's so good," she moans, her eyes closing in pleasure.

"Yeah?" I ask, unable to contain my smile that she's finally eating something.

"Come on before I eat it all."

"Wouldn't stop you, baby."

"You should. You don't want to ruin this, do you?" she asks with a smirk, looking down at her body.

Stepping up to her, I take her chin in my hand and tilt her face up so she has no choice but to look at me.

"Just you, P. I love your body, but that's not what I fell in love with when I was eight years old."

Her breath catches at my honesty, her eyes glazing over.

"You need to eat too. Then I'll fix your hands up."

Lowering down to her, I brush my lips over hers and thankfully she allows me to do it before I force myself to take a step back before I push too hard.

I need her so fucking badly right now, but I know I need to tread carefully. If I fuck this up then it really might be the final nail in our coffin, and that can't happen.

I know she says she regrets last night, but the darkness in her eyes when I stare at her across the table tells me otherwise. I just need her to stop worrying about the future, about the past and just focus on the right now when we're together because that's the only way I can see us getting through this.

She needs to remember just how good we can be together. Why we were always destined to be together. Why we were made for each other.

"Thank you for this."

"You're welcome."

I want to ask about the diary, if she read it or discovered anything but equally, I'm not sure I've got it in me to hear any more about it tonight so instead of saying anything, we eat in comfortable silence, lost in our own thoughts.

The second she's done, she pushes the takeout boxes away from her, hops up and grabs what she took from the hospital.

"They'll be fine. You don't need—" She raises her brow and pins me with a look that silences me immediately. "Okay. Fine."

"Sit." She shoots a look at the end of the bed and I stand, pulling my hoodie and shirt off as I go and throwing it toward my bag in the corner of the room.

She rolls her eyes at me, clearly knowing what I'm doing. But I don’t give a fuck. I'll use all the dirty tricks I can come up with right now.

"It's not going to work, you know?" she mutters, taking one of my hands in hers and inspecting the damage. The second her soft skin brushes against my callused fingers, sparks shoot up my arm heading straight to my dick.

"I'm not one to give up easily on something I want."

"Don't I know it."

I wince as she cleans the cuts on my knuckles, watching with amusement as she refuses to look anywhere but my hands.

I let her do her thing, knowing that she'll feel better once she's done it before capturing both of her hands in mine.

"Peyton," I breathe. "Look at me."

She keeps her head bowed, refusing to comply.

"What did you hit?"

"A wall. A few times."

"Shit, Luc. You can't do that. If you fuck up your hand then—"