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I don’t know about love. Aside from my sibling, twin-love for Finn, I’ve never known what love even is.
I mean, I enjoy Cillian. I like being with him. I look forward to seeing him again when we’re apart, and usually think about him constantly. I’m enjoying learning what makes him tick, what he likes and doesn’t like.
I like the things we do, the way he touches me. And the way that even the non-sexual or aggressive touches seem to make something click inside my chest and make my heart swell.
Is that what love is? I don’t know.
I know what this marriage is, though. Just as I know we have an expiration date in place in just a few months, where I’ll have to leave all of this new life and this new family behind and disappear once again.
At least, that was the initial deal. It was my ownidea, for fuck’s sakes. Now, that plan sounds horrible.
I don’t really know what that means, either.
But Iknow, however you would describe Cillian and I’s relationship, it’s “meaningful” if nothing else. At least to me.
So take that and fuck you, Mr. Dictionary.
Maybe Cillianisa true textbook psychopath. Or maybe he’s just severely damaged and has learned to deal with that damage in violent ways. But even if he is a psychopath, there’s a thin sliver of humanity running through him. I know it, because I’ve seen it, and felt it.
So that’s where I’ll stay. Safely cocooned in his darkness.
“Ready to go? Don’t want to be late when Dimitra’s hosting family dinner.”
I jump, gasping in shock as he startles me. I quickly close the browser tab I had open, hoping to God he didn’t see what I was looking up. “Sure. Let’s roll.”
“I’m capable of personal relationships, by the way.”
I cringe, my face scarlet.
“I’m…I’m sorry, I wasn’t—”
“You were curious.” He lifts a shoulder. “That’s fine, I get it. I’ve looked at every definition myself. Talked to about fifty shrinks. Most of them do classify me as psychotic, to some degree at least. But…” He shrugs again, his eyes burning hotly into mine. “Iamcapable of personal relationships.”
I smile. “I know. I see how you are with Neve and Eilish, and Castle, and—”
“You.”
I blush as I look up at him. My lip catches in my teeth, before slowly, my eyes drop to the front of his pants, dead level with where I’m sitting on the couch.
Something…dirtyflits through my head. Something that makes my pulse thud, and my thighs squeeze together.
Something I’ve been wanting—really, truly wanting—to try since the night he went out to slay the monster from my past. Because with that piece of shit gone…it feels almost like the block inside of me is crumbling.
I have to know.
I have to know if I’m forever broken in this particular regard.
I quickly flick my eyes to his as my hand raises to hook my fingers into his belt buckle. His brows arch as he glances down at me.
“What, exactly, are you doing?”
Heat pools in my core, along with a nervous anxiousness. I start to undo his belt, then the button of his black trousers. Then I start to pull on his zipper.
His hands land on mine as I start to peel his pants down.
“Una…”
I swallow as I look up at him. “Let me do this.”
