“These days, each bunny is a testament of sorrows.” She sighs, despondent. “Ravish me, maybe? Ravish away all the bad feelings.”
“I’m not positive that’s…healthy? I can’t kiss you into submission every time you don’t want to think. It would be cruel to stop you from processing what you need to.”
She lowers her pout, to my chest, where her lip grazes my skin with her every word. “I thought you were toxic, and selfish, and commanding, and—”
“I’m very grateful you think better of me than all that, cupcake, but you will forgive me if, especially right now, I’m hesitant to use you in any way that might leave questions in your brain about where your worth comes from.”
“Must you be so good to me? All the time? Always?”
I dry her face with my knuckle. “I’ll certainly try to be.”
She presses her wrist to my mouth.
Obedient, I kiss.
“You need to sign me again. It’s washed off while I’ve been mourning.”
“At once, my queen. Where’s one of your fancy new pens?” I slip my touch down her arm and kiss again, feel the flutter of her pulse beneath my lips.
“I want permanent marker. I want Zakery’s tattoo gun in your hand.”
I am not comfortable with that. I’m pretty sure wrist tattoos hurt more than many others, and I’ve never once held Zakery’s tattoo gun. He spent hours upon hours learning how to use the thing. I simply do not possess the skill. “Are you sure what you want isn’t the familiarity of abuse while your system is disjointed?”
She winces. “Is that why I like you? Because you taste similar without all the pain?”
Studies show there’s such a thing as an abuse cycle, that’s for sure. “Maybe.”
“I don’t like that. You don’t remind me anything of the hurt I’ve experienced.”
“I’m glad.” I kiss her wrist again.
“You’re not even demanding enough to stand in the same ring as my mother. It’s a little pathetic, frankly.”
“Verbal abuse, cutie pie? Spoiling me today.”
Her forehead lands on my chest. “I’m doing my very best manipulation, and failing miserably. I’d really appreciate it if you’d crawl inside my chest and scoop out all the things that hurt right now.”
I stroke my thumb across her pulse as I move her hand down and kiss her palm. “Keep asking. I love hearing you desperate for me like this, even if it’s for all the wrong reasons. I love the idea that you think I can fix everything for you. I adore how you trust me to consume you. Who knows if I’ll stay strong the longer you keep pleading… I am only human.”
She shivers. “I love you. Maybe not enough to drown you yet. But. It’s growing bigger every day. I’ll have an ocean soon.”
My body and mind react viscerally to that, and I clutch her hand to my mouth. “Will you now?”
“Yes.”
“Even though I won’t ravish you?”
“Despite your single flaw, yes.”
Single flaw. She’s petting my pride like a dwarf baby rabbit. I can’t get enough. Unless, of course, I can, and Iam. I hate seeing her hurting. I love being here, with her, like this. Having her choose my arms to fall into when she needs someone to catch her is everything I have always needed.
Offering to her what she offers to meisenough.
Her attention isn’t kept in a leaking pot. It saturates all my limbs, pressing on the seams of my skin, threatening to burst from the entirety of my body.
Huh.
I wonder.
Maybe I’ve not been starving for attention so much as I’ve been famished for a heart that lovesmebeyond the image I’ve cultivated for the public. Maybe I lost myself in the shine and needed someone to remind me that I’mhuman.
Knowing this woman who loves with her whole soul, to the detriment of her entire being, is an honor I intend to cherish.
So, as her breaths slow and the exhaustion takes hold, I sing her to sleep, content in the knowledge she is safe, and I will protect her, because I am hers.
