Talking to me.
Eris:
Do you?
The question sits on my screen, small and destabilizing, but I grin for a fraction of a second.
Do I want you?
Of course, I fucking want her. I’ve spent the last few days trying to figure her out, and the last few weeks stalking her like a true pervert.
But I don’t answer her with words this time.
I tuck my phone into my pocket and turn the knob to her door, stopping on the threshold to wait her out. I won’t come in without permission.
Eris is on the bed, her bare legs stretching for days, drawing my attention up to see her wearing Silas’s shirt. It belongs to her now; he won’t take it from her. None of us would…
I have no doubt she knew it was me on the other side of the HimLock conversation simply based on her expression. Those mirror-gray eyes are dark with something she’s decided she wants.
Eris stands without a word, the corner of her lips tipping up in a knowing smile.
She turns away from me and doesn’t look back.
Her instructions are simple, their meaning explicit.
It’s a quiet invitation.
Careful, but still testing.
She walks into the bathroom, leaving the door open behind her.
And I follow her like a lost puppy seeking her warmth.
I step inside the dark room, flicking the light switch and sliding the dimmer down to a moodier level.
“You already knew it was me,” I say, my voice low, steady. “Didn’t you?”
I’m already past the point of pretending this is casual, but her heady gaze meets my eyes in the mirror, lips curved just enough to tell me she knows exactly what she’s doing.
“I suspected,” she answers.
It would be smart to stop, to get to know her better and build the type of relationship we want with her.
But being inside her is a greater euphoria than I’ve ever felt.
“You’re playing with fire.”
It’s as much a warning for her as it is for me.
I’m going to burn alive happily, so it no longer matters.
Her smile widens, sharp and careless of my cautionary comment.
“Fire doesn’t scare me. I hold the matches and the gasoline.”
I close the distance, preparing for a heavenly death.
My hand slides up the back of her thigh, tracing the line where skin meets cotton. She inhales sharply, the sound catching as if she wasn’t expecting her body to give her away so easily.
She doesn’t pull away.
Neither do I.
And I’m going to show her this isn’t a test I take lightly. This is me choosing her again.
Today.
Tomorrow.
And every day after that.
