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“—Fuck.” He frowns.
“He’s not my every second thought, he’s my every thought.” The way ‘every’ sits in my mouth, it feels like a burden. “He infiltrates all of them. All my decisions, all my feelings—”
Julian shakes his head. “I’d hate that.”
I barely smile up at him but try my best to. “Yes, you would.”
He stares at me for a few seconds and I think if I were to acknowledge the moment in the fullness it deserves it would weigh differently in my heart, but I don’t.
I tell myself that he combs his fingers through the hair of all the girls he does this with.
“So, what’s it like being a gang lord?”
“Hah—” He smiles without looking at me, amused by the question. “You’ve accepted it then?”
I shrug. “I think it’s all lies.”
He gives me a look. “I mean. You know what it’s like. You dated Christian.”
I shake my head at him. “He didn’t tell me anything.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know—” I shrug. “Because I’m named after a flower or something, I think.”
Julian sniffs and nods. “Yeah, the delicate thing, I get it. You’re all bone china and we’re bulls.”
I sit up, facing him. “Tell me what’s it like.”
He gives me a long look. “Tiring.”
“Do you like it?” I rest my chin on his knee.
He purses his mouth while he thinks about it. “Was never a choice. It’s just the hand I was dealt.”
I nod like I get it even though I never will. I watch him curiously, trying to place how someone who’s so beautiful, whose mouth is so pink and whose hands are so gentle with me could possibly ever have blood on them.
“You don’t actually hurt people, right?” I stare over at him. “A bit, but not really… Do you?”
He reaches over to my face, brushes an eyelash from my cheek that isn’t there.
“Nah—” He smiles a bit sadly. “I’m all talk.”
