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“You think?”
“I do.”
She nods meekly.
“Are we good? Have you stopped thinking he abandoned you? He’s not your mother. He hated that woman. Because fuck her. Do you hear me? Fuck her for leaving you in the streets and being a coward who ran into the night.”
“Yeah, fuck her.”
“Good.”
She smiles through her tears and I love the fucking sight of it, how the green rushes back to the surface, chasing away the gray. She never gets upset for very long. She’s always striving to move forward and trying her best to stay afloat.
Because she’s special like that.
“Hey, Nate.”
“What?”
“You didn’t comment on my language.”
“You get a pass.”
“Fuck yeah.”
“Gwyneth.”
“What? You said I get a pass.”
“Not twice.” I inspect her finger, and thankfully, it’s not bleeding anymore. “And stop hurting yourself, or I swear to fucking God…”
“What?” The word is so breathy, it’s barely audible.
She has this habit of wanting to know the consequences. Sometimes, I suspect she does it on purpose, just to see my reaction.
“Or I’ll eat you out, drive you to the edge, but will not let you come.”
“No…not that.”
“Then stop hurting yourself.”
“It’s subconscious.”
“Then make it conscious. “
“How do I do that?”
“By practicing self-control and discipline so you never spiral out of what’s expected.”
She shakes her head but doesn’t remove her hand from mine. As if this feels so fucking natural, like it does for me. “That’s not possible, Nate. People can get out of control sometimes. It’s what makes us human. If we were all perfect, it’d be like watching some sci-fi movie, which I don’t really like. I prefer horror.”
“Even though they scare you?”
“I like to live on the edge…wait. How do you know they scare me? I don’t think I’ve mentioned that to you.”
“King did.”
A smile paints her lips. “And you remembered it.”
