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I feel my breathing quickening as I glare into curious eyes. In truth, I do want to fuck her out of my system very thoroughly, to make her willingly submit to every one of my unpalatable desires, and yet… when I stare into her face, I can’t help but feel like I’m falling back into water—except for once, it’s not cold unforgiving water which will pull me under, but it’s warm, its waves gentle, soothing.
It's fucking with my head.
And yet I can’t exactly reassure her because every risk she’s evoked is a real one. It is true that I have coped with the unrelenting torment of certain events by shutting others out, by shutting myself out, by attempting not to feel, and by most concertedly never inflicting romantic love on myself.
Her earnest gaze weakens me, for I know what the smart thing to do is.
In truth, there are days when months of trying not to think collapse onto me and I shut down completely, unable to work, to get up, to move. For those few days, I block out the existence of everyone and everything—Gideon, Kennedy, Stanley, Gabriella, my siblings, my mother… and my father.Especially him.
What if I did that to her?
In the on-off relationship of sorts I've attempted with Gabriella at our parents’ insistence, I don’t hesitate to take off or shut myself away until I’m pulled out of the paralysis. The difference is I don’t give a fuck whether she likes it or not, nor does she attempt to intervene beyond a few messages which I don’t return until I choose to turn my phone back on.
Indigo…
Well, she’s not exactly the docile type, nor the type who doesn’t like to talk about her feelings. I can’t imagine her sitting back and watching me implode in on myself, unable to move or speak or function for days at a time.
And more importantly, what state would I leave her in after repeated bouts of insanity? Would I damage her… beyond repair?
“I’m not putting myself through that,” she decides. “So… to sum up, you can use my pussy for your enjoyment, and in exchange, all I want is your dick.”
“That’s all you really want? My dick? Or you’re too afraid to want anything else?”
“Hey, you’re the one who came up with that brilliant fuck buddies idea,” she snaps, “so kindly please stop messing with my head.”
“I don’t even know if you could handle my dick, Indie. What I did to you last night is tame compared to what I really want to do to you.” Her lips part, just begging me to tie her up and fuck her mouth. “I’m a Dominant. You're a sub.”
“Oh, in your infinite wisdom, you’ve figured that out?” she scoffs.
“Yes. I have. The more dominant I behave with you, the wetter you become… and the more you yield to me. Or am I wrong?”
She contemplates me, her body trembling a little in irritation. “You’re not wrong… but youarean asshole.”
“You’re right. I am. But I don’t think we’re afraid of hitting each other with reality, are we? And as for your idea, I told you that what I previously proposed is off the table. We’re going to dedicate the next few months to figuring this out.”
“What does that even mean?”
“It means that we’re going to fuck very very hard.”
“To get each other out of our systems?” she utters in scorn.
“Yes. And at the same time, we get therapy. We try to heal, or begin to.”
She shudders in a breath. “Don’t couples usually go to therapyafterthey’ve been dating a while and hate each other’s guts?”
I can’t help but smile internally at the way the cynicism rolls off those pretty little lips of hers, a smile dampened by the concern hiding in the shadows beneath her vibrant eyes.
“We do this for a month. Then we reevaluate.”
“What, like have a board meeting?” she scoffs. “Should I bring some visual aids?”
In a burst of frustration, I reach around her, pulling her tiny naked body into mine as I lose control of my breathing in the face of her constant insubordination.
“Onemonth. It won’t kill us. You’re giving me that, Indigo. After that, we’ll make a decision. Either we walk away, or you belong to me…permanently.”
She shifts a little, but I hold her tightly so that she can’t move.
As she frowns, tiny within the cage of my frame, I struggle to stay afloat in the warm pools of her large eyes, wondering why the thought of walking away feels like black smoke entering my lungs; why I hunger for this walking disaster zone of a woman day and night with no respite. It can’t surely be just because she is the diametric opposite of the family I have been molded by…
