Page 101 of Stitches

I stuffed my hands in my pocket and stared right back.

He gave me a slight nod before turning his attention back to Sirena. I watched as he kissed her deeply.

Lucky Asher.

Sighing, I turned and walked back to my dorm but not before Mirage darted out in his fucking rabbit attire. He bumped into me but didn’t stop as he did a little skip and a hop before breaking into a run toward the forest.

This world was way too fucked up.

I sighed.

“How dull would it be if it were perfect?” Asylum asked, joining me on my walk.

I didn’t answer him.

Maybe I wanted dull.

STITCHES

Sirena hadn’t spoken another word since the night I’d fucked her in my bed, but she’d been in my room every night since, her arms wrapped tightly around me.

Church and Ashes were both aware of the sudden turn of events, and while I knew Church was itching to have her back in his bed, he backed off.

I appreciated that more than I could ever voice.

It felt good.

I felt good.

Maybe not as broken.

Or maybe like I didn’t have so many scattered pieces.

Angel was certainly making things a little better in my life.

I watched as she painted the picture she was working on. I’d sat silently on her bed since Ashes brought her home. She’d kissed me and had gone straight to her easel.

Her work fascinated me. It was so vivid and life-like. But there was an undercurrent of darkness to it that made my breath catch. The way she could capture emotion through a few brushstrokes had me mesmerized.

I watched as she swirled colors onto her brush before making the prettiest flower on the canvas. More swirls. More whorls. Color. Emotion. A face. Eyes. Lips. A nose. Dark hair.

Claws.

She was doing a portrait of her sister.

I smiled as she worked tirelessly for hours. Getting up and leaving her side wasn’t an option. Not now. So I stayed, sitting patiently on her bed while she continued her painting. I didn’t move. I didn’t speak.

Finally, she put her brush down and got to her feet.

Her smile brightened up my dark world as she gave me a glimpse of her painting. She came to me and slid onto my lap and nuzzled against my neck.

“Hey, angel baby,” I murmured, holding her.

Her lips pressed against my pulse point, sending goosebumps rushing along my flesh.

“Mm, I like your painting. Are you giving it to Cady?”

She twined her fingers with mine, not saying a word.

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