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I’ve been free at this mansion.
I’ve been free with Mo, with my friends at St. Mary’s. And now with my sewing machine, with my dress designs.
Will it never cease to make me feel foolish, the way I’ve behaved?
Will they never stop haunting me, all the mistakes I’ve made?
All the ways that I’ve hurt him.
Hurt this man.
The man who in so many, many ways brought me this freedom.
My Alaric.
I open my mouth to say something, anything, but he goes on, in a rough whisper, “I’m this close, okay? I’m this fucking close. I’m hanging by a thread.”
He grabs my face and lowers his lips even more, as if he wants me to understand these words correctly. As if he wants me to drink them down right from his mouth as they get ripped out of his chest, his heart, his very soul.
“I’ve said no to you before, yeah? Haven’t I?” I jerk out a nod and he continues, “Lots of times. And I’ve done it out of malice, out of anger. And then I’ve done it because I didn’t know what else to do. How else to make up for it all, for all the damage that I’ve done to you. But every time I’ve said no to you, Poe, something has died in me. Something dies. In me. Something burns and howls and lashes out. And it weakens me, you see. It fucking gnaws at my bones, at my insides, saying no to you. Do you understand that? Do you understand what I’m saying to you?”
I nod again.
Only because I know he needs that from me.
“So, I’m asking you, okay?” He pleads almost. “I’m asking you not to ask me. I’m asking you to not fucking ask me, Poe. Not again. And I gave you a secret in exchange for that. It’s a fair trade, yeah? You can keep it. You can use it however you want. You can fucking throw it in my face.
“And I know I acted like an ass tonight. I dragged you away from your friends. I locked you up in your room. I fucking kissed you, mauled your mouth, raped it all because I didn’t want anyone else to have your first taste. While you were fucking saving it for someone worthy, for someone right. But I’ll make it up to you. I promise, all right?
“I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll give you whatever you want, whatever your heart desires. I’ll buy you anything. I will. I’ll go shopping with you. I’ll drive you to the mall tomorrow. You like ice cream, huh? I’ll buy you ice cream. I’ll buy you all the clothes that you want for your designs. A new phone, a new computer, a new sewing machine. All the makeup. All the lipstick shades with weird-ass names. Your glow-in-the-dark nail polish. Chocolate chip cookies. Cherry pies. I’ll fucking buy you diamond fucking tiaras and drape you in suede and sequins and polka dots. Okay, Poe?”
His voice vibrates with intensity as he continues, “Just don’t ask me that. Don’t fucking ask me to fuck you. Because I’ll do it. And if I do it once, I’m going to do it twice. I’m going to do it three times. Four, five, six. I’m going to do it a million times and in a million ways, and I’ll keep doing it. I’ll keep coming back into your bedroom when everyone’s asleep, when Mo’s asleep and the whole staff is asleep, and has no clue about what goes on when Mr. Marshall walks into his ward’s room at midnight and closes the door. And doesn’t fucking leave until he’s wrecked her and ruined her and turned her into his cute little whore. So this is not a game. Just let me leave, all right?”
I should listen to him.
I know that.
I can see that. He’s all torn up and agitated. He’s really at the end of his rope.
And he’s right. This is not a game.
He will do all the things he said just now.
So this is serious. This is scary.
Only I’m not scared.
Not at all.
Because this is better than I thought. This is a million fucking times better than I ever, ever thought.
Like him, I don’t want it to end either. I don’t want it to be just once.
I never wanted that.
Yes, I wanted him to give me my first kiss and then have things go where they may. But in my heart of hearts, I knew that once wouldn’t be enough. I knew that his kisses would be addicting. His kisses would be hooking and I knew that I would want them and him over and over and over. And I wanted it so much that I was willing to compromise and have it only once if that’s what he wanted.
But turns out, he doesn’t.
He wants what I want.
