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Cole.
He once again took my choice and learnt things he has no business learning.
Considering how observant he is, I figured he knew a few things about me, but never in my wildest dreams would I have thought he delved too deep.
“Why?” he speaks casually, as if he didn’t just flip my world upside down. “You don’t like listening to the truth being thrown in your face? I can tell you about —”
“Stop it.” I meant it as an order, but it comes out as a plea. “Just stop, Cole.”
He drapes a hand around my nape and pulls me over so our foreheads connect. I gulp in harsh intakes of air, breathing him in with every inhale.
“Here’s the thing, Butterfly, I can’t stop.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re my chaos, and I can’t survive without chaos.”
“I’m chaos?”
“The worst of all. The most beautiful of all. And you know what? You might as well be the deadliest.”
My breathing chops off. “Are you ever going to let me go?”
“Are you?”
No.
The word stabs in my head as real and as gut-wrenching as that nightmare. There’s no need to think about it. I know for a fact that if I saw any girl near him again, I’d plot her fall and break her to unrecognisable pieces.
But I don’t say that, because truth is, I knew Cole lived for chaos. Under his calm exterior, it’s the only thing he plans for. The only thing he lives day-to-day for.
He always, without doubt, loses interest once the chaos turns boring.
That’s the same case for me. If I stop bringing chaos into his life and disrupting its flow in some way, he’ll drop me as if I never existed.
That thought pierces my heart more than the manifestation of my subconscious in that nightmare.
If I even remotely want to have him, then I need to be his chaos.
His only chaos.
And for that, I’m letting Papa, Mum, and even Helen down. I’m free-falling to sin and I have no way to stop it.
“That’s what I thought.” He grins, drops a kiss on my nose, and pulls me to him again.
He lies on his back and hugs me to the crook of his body so that I’m half-laying over him.
“Cole? What are you doing?”
His eyes are already closed. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m sleeping.”
“You can’t sleep here,” I whisper-hiss, but when I try to get up, he pins me to his side.
“Sure I can, Butterfly. In fact, I don’t like my bed. I’m going to use yours every night.”
“You can’t do that.”
“Watch and see.”
