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He’s not here with me, but he might as well be. He’s in my head now, leading me down tunnels I should not be travelling and goading me for more. Live more. Enjoy more. Relax more. He showed it in that damn room while she sat on me and asked to dance.
One more dance.
Wear the tuxedo and give her my all for the night.
I could still hear his chuckles, as if nothing was relevant apart from the fucking I could delve into. Maybe he’s right. Maybe he’s not. I only know that thereisan end to this. Has to be. Because she has begun to mean too much and I am beginning to give a damn that she does.
The grumbling continues, as I make my way through the halls and down the stairs. Too much time here. I should have left her here and not cared for what she did. Instead, I’m thinking thoughts about her, wondering about what this could have been in another life where I am not who I am with the accountabilities I have. Relax? I sneer and keep moving, searching deserted rooms for him so I can think about landing a punch that’s been brewing since he taunted me with her in the first place.
I find him eventually, fully dressed as if he’s intent on his own desire for wearing ball gowns. “What the hell is that?” I snap, walking to the drinks tray and pouring.
“A better one than yours.”
I look his midnight blue tux over, accepting the truth of that at least. “I meant, why are you wearing it?”
“Everyone is. I called a party in your honour.”
“What?”
“We’ll all waltz the night away if you’re going to fuck and think about enjoying yourself.”
“Malachi. This isn’t a coming out party. I have already fucked. As you know. You’ve won your little game of poke the bear.”
“No I haven’t. Not yet,” he says, walking to the fire and chuckling again. I sip at my drink and delve into my pocket, pulling out the bottle of pills waiting for consumption. “Obsession isn’t love. I want to see that before the end.”
The flames flicker light back at his face, highlighting the amusement he’s finding at this whole damn situation. “You’re ridiculous, Malachi. Fucking her and enjoying that is one thing, making me want her away from this place is quite another. There is no winning that game.”
“Then why haven’t you left yet?”
I scowl and down the drink, moving from the space the moment I’ve slammed the glass down on the table. Left? I can’t leave. Not until I’ve got her safely from here and back to the life she belongs in. This one here isn’t for her, and the continued chuckle behind me, as I keep moving, isn’t changing that.
“She wants to stay, Gray. You can’t force her to leave.” I can. And will if she doesn’t come willingly. “Besides. I might keep her as a pet if she doesn’t mean anything to you.” My body half stops, giving away my feelings about that proposal, before I keep moving on again without engaging. “I think it’s her sense of dour morbidity. Nothing has wanted to kill itself for a while here. Whimsical. Why does she want that?”
“Shut up, Malachi. She doesn’t want to kill herself.”
“She does. And you know I can help with that.”
My whole frame swings round to face him so quickly he actually moves away from me. Doesn’t stop his own scowl dropping to show his distaste for my position, but there’s some distance created at least to tame him back. “You will not help her with that at all.”
“Why not?”
“Because she is not a pet or a toy for you to pull to bits. Leave her alone.”
“I think I answered that the last time you asked me for honourable intentions.” He smirks and moves around me, heading for the party he’s apparently organised. “If she’s not yours, she must be mine. Or everyone else’s.”
I start after him again, less than impressed with that answer and damn close to finding her and taking her home before anything starts. “Your logic astounds me sometimes.”
“Fuck logic. You and your logic make you mind-numbing. Apart from the pills. The pills are the most useful thing you do with your logical mind.” Keys are pulled from his pocket, the doors swinging wide into the old lobby after he’s unlocked them. “Were you always this dull before? Could be the reason she fucked someone else.” Both my hands shove his back so hard he falters forward and ends up scuffing the floor for stability.
My own frame holds firm, daring him to go down that fucking road again. Being truthful that one time was for my own benefit, to let some of the goddamn load off my own back. It was not for him to use when he wanted to dig deeper than he should. I was under the assumption he knew that and would, at the very least, keep that out of this.
He dusts off his tux slowly, eyes like a hawk as he glares with as much as he’s got. I don’t care for his glare or his frustration at my brutish behaviour. That topic is not up for discussion or analysis. It’s also nothing to do with whatever this has become with Hannah. She’s attractive. That’s all. Lingering on some level. Bewitching with her hollows and dark circles under her eyes. And then there’s the way she holds on that I’m trying to disregard. Graceful. Needful. Connected.
The thought of her makes me huff and shrug my tense shoulders out, my gaze going to anything but him before he gets some hostility he probably doesn’t deserve. “Never go down that road again, Malachi,” I mutter. “It’s nothing to do with this.”
The air grumbles around us, tension and pressure almost reverberating on the old walls in this centuries old gateway to hell. That’s exactly what it is. His home behind us – hell. The place I’m travelling to underneath us for Hannah – hell. Anything he’s in is nothing but temptation and intemperance, a way of forgetting responsibilities and galvanising the devil's need.
He eventually turns away from me with without retaliating and walks for the elevator, long strides taking him there to show his need for separation. Good. That’s sensible for tonight. He can go and do whatever the hell it is that he wants to do and leave me alone to deal with Hannah. It’s probably best. Simple. No games.
