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“I can see that.” He lowers his hand from my shoulder and tucks his other hand behind his head. “I wish I didn’t.”
I understand what that means. “It would make what you came here to do a lot easier?”
“Nothing ever comes easy for me.” He runs his fingers over the edges of a book, barely balancing on the shelf.
“I get that.” I glance around the Suspiro room. The bookshelves behind us are a mess, thanks to all the rocking, but this place has never looked so magical. We created the chaos. It seems fitting to end in it.
“I just… I prefer to be fully clothed with panties, socks—the works, when the time comes.” My eyes find him,sansrose-colored glasses. I’m not conforming to death; I’m seeing the blatant truth of the situation.
Styx may be so much more than my captor—my lover, my torturer, my murderer—but I’m his captive in all forms. If I tried to run, he wouldn’t let me.
“That’s random…”
To get his reaction, I sit up.
He stiffens immediately, eyes glued as if he’s waiting for me to make a run for it. Hypothesis confirmed. My fate is in his hands.
“Bare, deceased flesh is harrowing,” I answer. “I don’t want to die naked.”
Styx’s chest rises and falls with a sigh and he reaches for a long strand of hair. My brain is telling me to flinch to withdraw, but I lie back down next to him watching him intertwine the thin strings around his finger. Over and over.
After a moment, he whispers, “You came into this world naked, and you look fucking amazing in this world, naked.”
For however long that is.“No one looks good dead, Styx.”
“I’ve seen some dead people who are passable.”
“Eww,” I shiver.
“I’m just kidding. You’re right, though.” He winks at me and mouths the wordagain, playing on our conversation about my frequency.“No amount of makeup can make the dead beautiful again.”
Not sure what to say to that, so I glance up at the ceiling. The wooden beams in here are carved, antique. Must have been carved by someone in love because there are so many hearts hidden.
“Have you seen many naked corpses, Snow?” He tucks my hair behind my ear.
“Yes, in school.” My irises travel along the loops and swirls, busying my mind with non-threatening things.
“Right!” Styx drops a kiss to my forehead while I attempt to bury the fear of my up-close-and-personal encounter with the dead in thedeadwood. “My little doctor girl.”
“Not a doctor,” I remind him yet again. “Also, not little.” Slight offense taken this time around. “And… just so you know, I would’ve made a really shitty doctor.” My lungs squish around my heart.
“I highly doubt that, Snow.”
Breathing is hard.
Thinking, excruciating.
Talking about school here, my experience, my professors—anything related to it— drives a wedge into my calm. It’s so hard to keep in control of my emotions, when it was the worst time of my life. Well, one of the worst times. Though, I think what it led to doesn’t really classify as life—since I was more dead inside than anything else.
“You barely know me.”
“I know enough to believe in you, Snow.”
Damn.Those words hit me in the core. “Can we—can w-we not talk about school stuff?” It’s not how I intend to spend my last few moments on earth.
He squints his eyes at me. “Fine.”
I smile weakly. “Thanks.”
