Page 88 of Trivium

“I don’t… know how I got here,” she slurred, the words running together.

The Fleshface blood had made her feel euphoric. Completely free of inhibitions. And as it wore off and they returned, she was flooded with panic and confusion.

“You said you wanted to come back to your room because you needed to lie down. When we got here, well…” He ran his hand over the back of his head, ruffling his hair. “Fleshface blood makes you do things you normally wouldn’t.”

Her dorm. They weren’t in Lennox’s dorm. They were in hers.

She had dragged Lennox back here just to pounce on him.

What the actual fuck was she doing.

They’d danced, bodies orbiting closer, heat gathering between them. It lured her in, deeper into the void, into every desire she’d tried to bury. And in that blur of wanting and escape, of acting on instinct alone, she’d leaned into Lennox. Too much, too fast, obviously.

She had come onto him, she realized, piecing the events together.

Lennox’s rejection stung. Didn’t he want this? Want her? “You don’t want me to…” Her voice trailed off, cracking.

He studied her, concerned. “Not like this.”

Suddenly, her emotions surged in a tidal wave, the final remains of Fleshface blood disappearing. She barely noticed them, the tears, before they were tumbling out of her, heavy boulders of emotion crashing down her cheeks. Lennox pulled her into his chest and tucked her head under his chin. Normally, she would have resisted it. Pushed him away. Not let him get too close. But tonight, maybe because of the Fleshface blood, or maybe because she was tired of fighting the feelings she had for him, she let her walls down and sunk into him, like she was finally home. He held her like she would crumble into a thousand pieces if he let go.

“I do, don’t get me wrong, I fucking do, but…” He spoke with a gravelly voice against her hair. “You’re not in your right mind.”

“I’ve never been so right minded,” she said, her face damp, and they both laughed, knowing full well it was a lie.

“Mina.”

Not stress-mina or hate-mina. Not even friend-mina. Just Mina. And his voice was so painfully soft. “I’m sorry, I don’t want to make you feel like you’re not good enough.”

She tried to stop the flood of tears. She really did. But she had been keeping them captive for way, way too long, and once the floodgates were open, they wouldn’t close.

“I just—it’s not…” his voice trailed off like he couldn’t find the words. She filled in the blanks for him. She was a very, very stupid woman.

Lennox turned to face her, cupping her cheeks in his hands. “You’ll be okay. It’s just the Fleshface blood.” He looked almost serious, brows furrowed, but the slight smile still gracing his lips relaxed her. Silently, she embraced him again, letting the tears ease as he stroked her hair.

“I like you, Mina,” Lennox whispered, warming her heart. “I’d love to explore all of that with you someday. But I’m not in a rush.”

I like you too. The words clung to her throat.

“I know you’re going through a lot right now,” he said, twisting one of her loose curls in his fingers. “The Fleshface blood brings out our most primal desires, but it doesn’t wipe away our shadows.”

What did that mean?

He looked down at her, reading the confusion on her face. “When we got here, you went straight for my pants. Like you were here to do a job.” He paused, thinking. “I just want you to know that you don’t need to perform for me. You don’t need to prove yourself. Maybe you have at the Academy, and before that, but not with me.”

Ahmina clutched him a little harder in response. There weren’t many people in the world she didn’t have to prove something to.

“When you were intimate with men before,” he said slowly, choosing his words carefully. “Was it mutual?”

“What do you mean?”

“Did they ever reciprocate?

In college she’d had one boyfriend. She wasn’t some innocent virgin, of course. She had fallen for him first and gave everything she had to the relationship. But in the end, she wondered if he had ever truly loved her or if she had just been convenient. She had given him her time, attention, compliments, gifts. Her heart. Her body.

And not just that. She had made sure to pleasure him regularly, getting on her knees whenever he desired it. She told herself that it was because she wanted to. It made her happy to please him. But now, the truth circled in her stomach, making her feel incredibly vulnerable.

“I just wanted to be a good girlfriend. We never did that—he never did that to me.” She cleared her throat awkwardly. “We just weren’t like that.”