“If she hurt you—” he starts, and I lift my hand.
“She wasn't talking about me.”
“She was talking about me,” he confirms, and the silence that stretches between us is all the confirmation he needs. “It was probably true,” he states, and I scoff.
“You don't know what she said,” I grumble, and he shrugs, his eyes staring deep into mine.
“I don't need to.”
My lips twist as I try to silence myself, but the words still slip through. “I don't understand,” I breathe, my heart rate quickening as silence bleeds between us once again, but it sinks deep into my bones, leaving me caught off guard, and I can't stand to sit with the feeling any longer.
Standing, I go to move, but before I can edge away, he grabs my wrist, pulling me back to him.
It throws me off, looking down at him.
He's not the big giant I'm used to seeing.
He's just a guy sitting in the water, with me towering over him, and it’s completely unsettling.
“I thought I knew what I felt, I thought I understood, but I didn’t.” He rubs his lips together, his eyes crinkling as his jaw grinds. “I liked having someone to care about.” My pulse rings in my ears, confused by what he wants me to say to that, but thankfully, he's not done. “She was familiar, she was someone not a part of my family, she was someone just for me, not forthe others; not my mom, my dads, my sisters, my brother, just mine. But even then, I didn't really know what to do with her. I think I just wanted to control somebody, have something in my possession, but I understand now that I never cared.”
“I’m sure you did,” I insist, despite how awful the words taste on my tongue, and he scoffs.
“The second I knew she had done something to hurt you, I wanted to kill her. You could kill me with your bare hands, and I would still care.”
“Baron,” I try to interject, but he shakes his head.
“Ivy, I couldn't live if you died, and with her, I couldn't even think about a kiss, never mind my next breath, my very being, my existence.”
“This is pretty heavy for a Saturday night,” I mutter, overwhelmed by the truth in his words.
“Story of my life, Ivy. Everything is too heavy, until you can't carry it anymore, and then you wind up like me.” Pain is etched in every word.
“Baron,” I whisper, moving to crouch back down into the water beside him, but he rises up before I get a chance, forcing me to stay on my feet.
“Go,” he commands, and I shake my head. “Ivy, go,” he repeats, nodding toward the shore.
"If I don’t?” I push, and he shakes his head.
“Then all you're doing is waiting to be broken because all I can think about when I look at you is what your lips might taste like.”
21
SAX
The afternoon sun streaks across the sky, distorted by a smattering of clouds.
Usually, my tiger would hate taking a break from the rays, but we're both too preoccupied to mind today. It's amazing to acknowledge even the smallest changes Ivy has drawn from me.
Well, not just me, but my tiger as well.
I feel more alert, yet also more at peace. More ravenous, yet more settled. More content, yet ready to pounce at any given moment.
I feel at one with myself, and as my eyelids fall for a moment, and visions of her from last night come to mind, I practically purr as my tiger basks in her grandeur too.
She was a vision of beauty, absolutely stunning, not because of the gorgeous dress she wore or how pretty her makeup was, or even how long and lush her hair looked in that high ponytail, but in the way she smiled and laughed as she had a moment with her friends that she'd been longing for.
It took a lot of back and forth earlier in the day, pushing to ensure she got this freedom from the crazies, but man, was it fucking worth it.
