I didn’t really notice before–or, alright, I noticed but it didn’tmatterto me–but he’s not ugly. Not even a little.
“Fine,” he slides even deeper into his seat. “Fine. I’ll stay.”
I knew he would.
I’m familiar with the feeling of triumph, of success. It floods me now, and I’m relieved that he finally stirs something in me that I actually recognize.
“Good. Now tell me where you’re going and I’ll take you there. Or, we can go back to Kira’s.”
He hesitates, and I don’t move a muscle, I don’t even breathe too loud. That chasing/catching predator feeling is back, and I’m waiting for him to give me what I want. And, oddly enough, I know that he will. I like that he gives me what I want.
“Okay, we can go,” he finally mumbles, looking back out the window. “I’m just going home to check on some stuff. You can’t talk to anyone in there and you should leave your watch in the car, alright? And we should park down the block. Actually–” He eyes me up and down, then shakes his head like I’m a lost cause. “It doesn’t matter. You’d better have your driver just park out front, we don’t want to walk more than we have to with you dressed like that.”
I wasn’t planning on parking down the block anyway, but it’s nice that he’s on the same page as me and doesn’t need to be convinced, or worse, disappointed when I don’t agree. “Fine. Address?”
He gives it to me, and I tap on the partition and pass it along to Yosef. Before long, the car is gently pulling away from the curb.
“You’re staring,” Tommy says a minute or so later, stubbornly facing the window but keeping me in his peripherals.
“Mm.”
“Enjoying yourself?”
A small smile grows on my lips. “Just keeping an eye on things.”
Calling back to our conversation on the plane feels like an inside joke, and the humor between us relaxes the tension and makes him smile softly back at me. He looks at me through his lashes, his dark eyes so intense, but doesn’t demand that I stop watching him. Instead, he just looks back out the window.
And, like in the library, he lets me stare. The car hums along, quiet except for his shifting. He squirms, chews on his lip, huffs a sigh. Clears his throat. Coughs. Glances at me, only to snap his eyes away a second later. It doesn’t take long before he’s in constant motion, as restless as I am still. He knows I’m watching, and he can’t quite settle under the weight of it.
He lets me look at him, and I wonder if he understands how it makes him feel to be watched, to beseenby me. I think he might like it. Only time will tell. Time, and a lot of staring.
“After this errand, is there anything else you need to take care of?” I ask.
He stiffens a little, barely noticeable but of course I do, I can’t take my eyes off him. “I guess you can take me back to Kira’s after this. I don’t have anything else I gotta do.”
‘I get locked in Kira’s apartment all day like a fucking dog left at home,’ his words echo in my memory. They were stark and bleak, and even though I don’t know how it makes him feel emotionally, I’m not an idiot–it isn’t a positive comparison.
“Actually,” I check my watch, “This is making me run a little late. I need to go straight to a meeting after this, so you’ll have to come with me. I probably won’t be able to return you to Kira’s until she’s already back from school. I hope you didn’t have plans before dinnertime.”
Oh, he likes that.Tommy actually smiles at me when I say that. It’s a small one, almost shy and startled and unsure, not atall bratty or pouty or angry or sad. He hides it away as fast as he can, but it’s too late, I saw it.
And I’ve learned just a little more about him, and the workings of his mind, and his chaos and his art.
Tommy might be adamant that he’s no one’s responsibility but his own, he might demand to be left alone, but he doesn’t really like it.
Chapter 12
Tommy
I think someone needs to pinch me.
No really, pinch me. Punch me. Anything.
Because this,this, isn’t… like, real, is it?
Young-gi’s sitting next to me, his eyes boring holes into the side of my head, and I’m internally writhing with crazy fucked-up feelings that are somehow a trainwreck between being horny and terrified. And not all my writhing is internal, despite my best efforts to sit still. We’re here in this luxury car together because… because he was having me watched and followed and then came to get me.
But not to slap my wrist and take me back home like a bad kid caught outside of school. No, he offered me a ride.
