Page 17 of Sink With Me

“You mean when we were kids.” I correct through slow, reluctant chews. Technically we were 18 but it was so long ago it feels like we were kids. Back then things were simpler, easier. I tilt my head curiously, as the opening credits come on, bracing myself to swallow.

His leg brushes mine as he crosses them, and it sends a feeling of fire scorching through my clothing. His cot is too small, giving no room for any type of personal space. But it’s intimate, comfortable almost, as if we’re camping in a tent instead of traversing the expanse. I give up attempting to stomach dinner and place my plate on the floor, my elbows resting on my knees and my face in my hands.

“I can’t believe you have The Notebook.” I laugh under my breath. Silence. It lingers, exaggerating the voices in my head. Be the perfect soldier. They don’t get to stay too long as rough fingers brush between my shoulder blades, pushing my hair away from the area. A chill rolls down my spine from the way they trail a lazy patter down to my ribs until he’s pulling me into his embrace.

“Maybe I plotted getting you to watch it with me. A nice change of pace from the gory shit you like.” His voice is low enough it vibrates his chest against my ear. I fight back a laugh behind tight lips.

“You like my ‘gory shit’.”

“I do,” he traces a small circle on my shoulder. “Cordelia, I like everything about you.”

My heart skips a beat as he hooks his finger under my chin drawing my attention.

“Always have darlin’.” He grins.

I process the words, my eyes darting between his as their deep chocolate absorbs all my anxieties, leaving behind a swarm of butterflies into my abdomen

“I’m pretty damn good at planning a date, aren’t I? Just imagine the places I could take you if we were back home.”

I scoff lightly. Why can’t I form words? He’s left me lost, dumbfounded at how easy it feels with him. His thumb brushes my bottom lip, and his gaze follows the motion.

“I wish I could figure out what is going on in that head of yours.”

My breathing shallows. Even more so when he leans in, and his breath mingles with my own. I shouldn’t—My thoughts cease as his mouth brushes against mine replacing his finger, following a path it’s wandered before.

“Day… men.” His name escapes out in the brief moments where I can catch my breath. He places his hands either side of my face, his fingertips extending into my hair, bringing his lips to mine harder. His tattooed arm shifts beneath my body and I find him between my legs as I reach my hands into his onyx hair. I almost moan. He tastes of spearmint, fresh, good. He tastes right.

“I want to make this work.” The words caress my skin as his mouth trails a path to my jaw. The cool metal of his dog-tags falls from his shirt beside my neck. A gentle kiss below my ear. “We could make this work.” A kiss to the hollow of my throat.

I tense. I can’t. His lips are on mine again, my brain is confused.

“Daymen.” I hold a sterner edge in my voice this time as I press my hands to his face. He softly pulls back, his brows furrowed, and features pull tight in confusion.

“Captain” He murmurs, and I groan. I roll my neck urging myself to stay levelheaded. I can’t get distracted now.

“I need to focus on my priorities. End the war, kill—”

“Yeah, I know I’ve heard it all before.” He cuts me off matching his tone to my own. I swallow and he takes a harsh breath, leaning back onto his knees. I drag myself up to sit in front of him.

“You act as if you can’t do that with me by your side, as if I’m not here doing that with you right now.” He says lighter this time, a thumb reaching out to stroke my cheek, forcing a smile to form but his dimple doesn’t show.

“I can’t.” The words are out before I can form a want to stop them. “You’re a distraction.”

He pulls his hand back and shifts himself to throw his legs over the edge of the bed. I reach for him. I can’t risk everything now. Not when I’m so close.

“You have to understand. I can’t focus on anything else. This has always been my end goal. With you in it…” I feel my brows flexing, my shirt wrinkling. This is not a proper soldier. “Well you’re a… a liability. A chance I can’t take.”

His head darts in my direction, features soft and lips parted.

“A liability?” The way the two words sound so heartbroken has me suppressing a wince. I stand, the walls are closing in. I can’t breathe. The dinner tray clatters beneath my feet, and I cower back against the far wall.

“I’ve worked my ass off for this moment. I’ve trained and fought to get this.” I say defensively. I begin obsessively smoothing my shirt. He remains sitting, deflated on the edge of the bed.

“I know.” His eyes meet mine and I pull my hand away before he can grasp my wrist. I need out. I need to focus on what matters.

“Cordelia.”

My name carries into the dark hallway where machines rumble in the walls and my anxiety skyrockets. The smell in here is too strong, making my lungs spasm with a need to take a deeper inhale but my chest won’t expand with a breath. What was he thinking? I don’t have people by my side. I have them in my ears. I’m not ready, not until I end this sick game with him. My anger flares, mixing with my panic as my feet stumble up the steps but I trip, bracing my hands against the railings that cage me in to help force myself the rest of the way up.

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