Viktor(42)
Enough is enough.
“Are you sure this is what you want to do?”
“Dammit, Winston!” I slam the cup down again. “Just do it.” I sigh out loud. “Get it fucking over with.”
“All right … if that’s what you want.”
I throw back the drink he’s given me until it’s empty and then give him back the cup. “And bring me another one of … whatever the hell that is.”
“Of course.” His hand touches my shoulder, and I flinch from the sudden contact, but then relax again once he squeezes. “I’m proud of you.”
I nod slowly as he turns around and leaves the room, leaving me with my thoughts, which are violent right now.
I want to throw something. Smash something. Break everything to bits. Shove the bench, throw my chair, break the glass of the window, and scream.
But I don’t.
I don’t because I’ve learned my lesson. Because I don’t want her to have to witness my anger like that ever again. I have to learn to control myself.
Now that I’ve finally pulled the trigger, I’ve set something into motion I don’t know I’ll survive. But it was goddamn worth it. Finally, I did a good thing.
And it brings a fucking smile to my face.
***
Night
In my workshop, I work tirelessly on the next piece of jewelry. After taking a quick pill to numb the pain of my scars, I continue carving the gem. I only stop working once the crystal is perfect and the ring is finished. I don’t care how long it takes; as long as it’s done. And now that it is … I’m finally calm again.
So I clean up the mess and then make my way toward my bedroom. Every step feels heavier than the one before. I know I’ve screamed at her, but I hope she can forgive me. If she’s still here.
I tell myself I’ll tell her everything, one day.
But now … I’m too tired to even walk straight.
When I open the door, I freeze.
She’s still here.
Despite the fact that I yelled at her. Threw shit at the wall right in front of her. Fucked with no restraint.
She’s still here, in my room, in my fucking bed.
Sleeping.
Like a fucking angel.
If angels had black eyeliner, tongue piercings, bird tattoos, and a smoking-hot body, that is.
I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Trying not to make a sound, I carefully tiptoe toward her, pulling my clothes off one by one until there’s nothing left. Naked, I crawl under the sheets with her and park myself right behind her.
She wriggles, moaning a bit, and it makes my cock twitch with delight. I struggle to will it down but manage eventually and snuggle closer. Wrapping my arm around her waist, I pull her closer to me and smell her hair. She smells of smoke and firecrackers. Burning embers. Smoldering flames … as fiery as her spirit.
“Hmm …” she groans. “Where’d you come from?”
“Shh … go back to sleep.”
“I can’t. You’re invading my space.”
I laugh a bit and press a kiss to the back of her head. “It’s payback for earlier.”
“For what?”
“You … sneaking into my room,” I whisper.
“Pft.” She pulls the blanket up further. “What are you doing here anyway?”
“Tired. Wanna sleep.”
“The couch is there.” She points at the couch on the other side of the room.
“It’s my bed.”
“So?”
I look down at her, pouting. “You don’t mean that.”
“Of course, I do. Asshole.”
I smile, and when she does too, I laugh.
After that, it’s quiet for a while, and I pull her closer to press another kiss to the back of her hair. “I’m sorry.”
“You should be.”
“I know. I’m trying to do better. Trying to be less of an asshole.”
“Yeah? Good.” She snuggles back into my chest and purrs, setting me on fire again.
“This. This is good.” I tighten my grip around her waist.
“Hmm …”
Is that a yes or a no? Does she agree?
Then she turns around. I try to hold her back, but I don’t want to hurt her, so I cover my face with my arm instead. “Don’t.”
“Why not?” she says.
“Don’t look at me, please.” I swallow. It’s at times like these when I miss my mask the most. I can’t hide behind it anymore.
“What are you trying to hide?” she murmurs, grabbing my hand. She pulls my arm down, and I let her.
“You shouldn’t have to look at this.”
“At what?” She smiles. “I don’t see anything except you.”
You. What does that even mean? Me. Who am I really?