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“So I did everything that I could after that. To kill myself. To kill old Alaric, the pathetic weakling. To forget that he ever existed. I got two PhDs, countless awards and grants and papers. I built my body. I sculpted it, honed it, made myself bigger and stronger. I came back to this town. The town that old Alaric hated. I sat on the same boards as my father, ran the same meetings, worked with the same people. Because these were the people, these were the things that old Alaric hated, you see. He liked books. He liked history. He liked being shut up in his own world but I forced him out. I forced him to become someone else. To become like my father. To value things that my father valued. Power, prestige, legacy. And I guess I did become like him. I became exactly like him because like him, I punished that boy. The boy that I was.”
Finally, he focuses on me, his fingers flexing on my face. “You were right. When you said that I was punishing myself. I was. I have been. For being who I was. For being weak. For being a coward. For killing my mother. For being born. I have been punishing myself for all of these crimes. For all of these sins. And I want you to know that, Poe. I want you to know why. I want you to know who I was before I became this. Before you met me. Before you…”
His fingers flex on my face again, his gaze growing penetrating. “Before I tell you all the other things, I want you to know who you gave that gift to. The one that you’d made. Because it was your heart, wasn’t it? It was your precious fucking heart. Your purple, polka dot heart that you put in my hands and I… I didn’t even have the decency to say thank you. I want you to know who you gave your heart to. I want you to know that I’m not… like you. God, you’re so brave, you know that? Do you have any idea how brave you are? How much of a fighter you are? You fight, Poe. You push back. You’re courageous. You have a fire in you. No, actually that’s not true. You are fire. You’re a flame. A blue blazing flame. You’re the hottest part of fire, Poe. And I’m not… I don’t deserve —”
Finally I’ve had enough.
I’ve had enough of his words.
And I’ve had it to a degree that I put all my body into it. Into him. Into pushing him back.
Into overpowering him like I did that night.
The night I found out about his life.
About his story.
The night I realized that he was my soulmate.
So now he’s down on the bed, flat on his back, and I’m over him. My thighs are straddling his slim hips as I sit on his eight-pack torso. As I lean over him, my hands fisted in his collar, my eyes glaring at him.
But maybe he doesn’t get it.
He doesn’t get how much danger he is in right now because he’s not glaring back. He’s not even breathing hard like I am. His features aren’t tight like mine must be and his body is all relaxed under me.
And that makes me all the more angry.
The fact that he’s simply lying there, gazing up at me with molten eyes while still cradling my face.
It makes me clench my teeth and twist my fingers in his collar as I say, or growl really, “Are you done?” I don’t give him a chance to answer as I plow ahead. “You need to be done, do you understand? You need to be done talking right now. Because I don’t wanna hear it. I don’t wanna hear a single word against my Alaric. Against that little boy. I don’t want to hear you say that he was a coward or that he was weak or that he deserved everything that he got. He did not. He absolutely did not deserve a single thing. Not a single punch, a single curse, a single abuse done to him by others. By you. He was a boy, okay? A little, innocent boy. And he did what he could to survive. He did what he could to live. Do you understand? And I want you to hear something else too.
“He’s not dead. You tried to kill him, right? You tried to forget him, but he survived. He is inside of you. And I know that because he’s the one who protects me. He’s the one who pampers me. Who spoils me. He’s the one who can’t say no to me. He’s the one who gives me my every wish, no matter how silly or how whimsical. He draws baths for me. He looks at my designs like they’re the most precious things in the world. He’s the one who watches my shows with me, who laughs with me, who teases me, who makes me feel like I’m his queen. Because I am his queen. I’m his baby, and if you say anything against him, Alaric, I’m not going to like it. I’m not going to take it, okay? So you have to stop. Just stop. Because you’re wrong. You’re so so wrong, God. He is a fighter. Don’t you see that? He did fight back. He did survive. He survived everything. Every cruelty, every blow, every unfairness, all the hatred. He survived all that. And thank God for that. Thank fucking God because if he hadn’t, then you wouldn’t be here. You wouldn’t be here, Alaric, and I… I don’t…”
