He walks around the table and tosses a picture of it between us. “I was more shocked you got my eyes right than anything, Delilah. I’m impressed.” I go stock-still. “Safe to say if you mess up a damn frog when you’re this good you’re not getting hired for shit, understood?”
“Yes.” My voice cracks.
“And Lilah?” His voice is closer now, warmer.
I can feel him behind me. I can barely breathe. He doesn’t touch me at all, but he’s right there, right behind me, breathing, existing. He inhales, exhales. I hold my breath.
“Put some ice on your lip, we wouldn’t want it to swell.”
“Maybe you should stop biting.” I snap. It’s a lie. I liked the bite. I can still feel it, the way his tongue lingered.
“I would if you really wanted me to, but you know you dreamt of that bite all night long. I wonder how long you’ll last.”
“How long I’ll last?” I look over my shoulder.
“Until you force more tears for my benefit. I can’t fucking wait.”
“You said my body was mine.” I lower my voice.
“Your tears, however…” He nods. “Aren’t.”
I’m quiet.
“You’re dismissed.”
Again.
I stomp up the stairs, grab my bag and walk out the door and when I get to the studio and try to start practicing my frog all I see is his face.
And all I feel is my lip.
Until I can’t breathe.
Until he’s the only air in my lungs.
And for some sick reason when I want to cry, I stupidly save my tears in hopes that one day he’ll be worthy of them.
13
“Do not pity the man in chains. Fear the one who survives them. He has had time to think.” The Count of Monte Cristo
JUDE
My hands are shaking. Another note came. Another confession.
Stop running from her. Face the truth. Face your truth with her. She’s been closer than you think all this time. It wasn’t just your tears that were shed.
What the hell does that even mean? I’ve kept an eye on her and chose to come here because of the first note knowing that she went to school, knowing that I’d be getting my revenge a lot sooner so why does this feel different, why does it feel like a set up?
My foot’s tapping anxiously across the floor like a tic I can’t stop that suddenly developed in her presence. I hate that I feel like I’m cracking or maybe it’s just anxious energy.
I spent years preparing for this.
Years imagining it.
Years convincing myself that when I finally stood in front of her again I'd be in complete control and lately all I’ve been doing is thinking of all the memories of us together and wondering why and how my body is betraying me so brilliantly. Every time I think I’m done, I engage with her, I prod her, and then I forget the reason why and want to pull at her until she unravels in my arms, boneless, needy. Mine.
And now, I'm standing outside a recording studio waiting for Axel and wondering why the hell my pulse is acting like I'm nineteen again hoping I’ll see her. Stupid. I have no clue where she works in this place just that she does, I’m assuming a secretary of some sorts. An intern? It shouldn’t matter, but since touching her mouth it fucking does.
