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“Sorry for saying you're just a guy with a dick and that you’re a degenerate… and disgusting.”
He laughs and helps me up, his fingers lingering on my wrist as I move by him. I wrap myself in my bathrobe and spare him a glance before I reach the door.
“Coming? Or do you not shower after hate-fucking your roommate?”
12
Liam
My eyes lingeron Wynn as she scrubs her chest with her champagne- and rose-scented body wash.
I intended to have fun with her tonight, but I didn’t think it’d spiral out of control and we’d… What did she call it,hate-fucking? She glances over at me and I quickly avert my eyes.
Why can’t I stop thinking about her? Why can’t we just get along?
I want her… more than I care to admit.I want her.
That brief moment when we were pressed so close, her chest against mine... I want to comfort her, hold her while she sleeps. But she won’t let me. Not while she’s awake at least.
I run my hair beneath the water one last time before shutting it off and wrapping a towel around my waist.
Her new meds keep her asleep at night but don’t stop her from dreaming. Her whimpers were quiet at first, but as the nights have passed, they’ve gradually become too much to ignore.
Wynn finishes up with her shower and doesn’t look at me as she slips by. She tries so hard to not look at me. I grin; I like this game we’re playing.
We get dressed and spend the rest of the evening reading and don’t talk much at all, especially not about the hate-fucking.
Do we hate each other? I don’t think that’s accurate.
She falls asleep around eleven and I don’t bother putting my book down until her soft whimpers start up. I glance over at her.
Her lips are still puffy from our brutal kisses. Dark lashes kiss her cheeks. Her face is somber, dreams bleak.
She’s beautiful. If I let her, she’ll break my heart a million times until she can no longer find a weak spot in my armor. We hurt each other. That’s what I’ve learned so far . We’re each other’s pain.
But do we have to be?
I watch her whimper for a few more minutes before setting my book on the nightstand and shutting off my lamp.
Her hair is still wet. It smells so sweet—she loves the expensive, floral-scented shampoo brands that claim to keep the color in your hair brighter. I gently move her hair up a little so it’s on her pillow and can dry out more, and then I slowly crawl in behind her.
Her body is warm but she unconsciously moves closer to me for my heat. I grin and she rolls to face me, nuzzling into my chest and breathing easier than she was a moment ago.
She’s like this every night. I don’t know why, and I’m not sure if she’ll ever tell me what plagues her dreams, but I don’t mind holding her like this. It makes the itch in the back of my mind fade. The need to feel pain is almost completely gone when I’m with her.
I tuck my head in closer to her and press a kiss to her forehead.
“Remedium meum.”
13
Wynn
Passion—that’sthis week’s theme.
Find your passion.
Well, that’s certainly easier said than done, isn’t it? How many times have I tried to find my calling? What makes me uniquely me? I’m not special. I’m not unique.
