Page 80 of Warmer, Colder

“I love you, too. But what if it isn’t enough?” The real question, ‘what if I’m not enough’, is silent, but I don’t miss it.

“Loving me is enough.” Stroking her cheek with the back of my hand, I lose myself in those vast ocean eyes that promise the world. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted. My entire life I’ve always been too much. Too opinionated. Too loud. Too big. Toomyself. Most people don’t have it in themselves to accept me, let alone love me. All I need is for you to choose me.” I kiss her palm. “I need you to choose me, and not because we’re the only two people left in each other’s lives, but because you can’t imagine a single day of existence without me by your side.”

Becca attempts to speak but I continue before I lose the will to be vulnerable. “I need you to choose me because it’s never been a choice for me;it’s always been you.It was youthe day you decided you didn’t care that I’d been labeled as the weird girl.It was youevery time you called me beautiful and meant it.It was youeven when you iced me out of your life.It was still youwhen you watched Nate slit my throat. It’s you, it’s you, it’s alwaysyou.” My thoughts run a mile a minute, all the feelings I’ve had to keep bottled for so long spilling out. “And goddammit, it’ll be you even if you can’t choose me because of all we’ve been through. But I need to know. I can’t keep going back and forth with you.” I tilt my head back trying to force the tears to return to where they came from. “I can live with knowing that I will always love you unconditionally, unrequited, but what I can’t cope with is the hope.”

“I choose you.” A reassuring hand runs down my back. “I choose you, Anastasia Eden.”

Part IV

Chapter 36

Stasi

100 Days Dead

Despite what we’ve given over to one another—the vulnerability we’ve shared, the way we’ve stripped ourselves bare of our secrets—peace continues to evade us even now as we lie intertwined. Every inch of me protests as we try to find the right words while I stare into the void that’s gathered in the corner flickers. The pitch-black watches us right back, mocking the serenity we’ve found in its absence.But good things never last.

With a heavy sigh, I prepare myself to ruin the moment. “I’m going to need you to trust me.” Stroking her arm, I attempt to quell the anxiety I can feel building within her.

“Why does that sound so ominous?” Becca asks hesitantly, her muscles tensing beneath me.

I choose my next words carefully, remaining vague in an effort to build her up to the truth of the situation. “There’s another ritual we need to do, and this one…it’s a bit more invasive than the banishing we did before.”

Silence stretches between us as my words register. Instinctively, Becca looks over her shoulder, sensing its oppressive force. “It’s back? Why is it back?”

“I’ve been feeding it everything it needs—desperation, anguish, sadness—for the last few days.” Shame creeps into my voice eventhough there was no helping it. Becca only nods, like it wasn’t just me who brought this on. “If we want it to stay gone, I think we’re going to need something more powerful.”

With a deep sigh, she steadies herself. “What’s that exactly?”

“Blood.”

As expected she recoils, her fingers tracing the underside of her wrist. “I can’t.” Her voice falters.

“Becca, I need you to trust me.” Taking her face between my palms, I attempt to wrangle the fear that’s pouring from her wide pupils into her veins as we speak. “I promise, I won’t let anything happen to you.” She shakes her head frantically, but I stay firm. “Remember, we can’t die. Nothing can truly harm us.”

“Why can’t we just ignore it? I’m sure we could if we tried?”

“That’s no way to live. And what if it turns its attention to your parents? I know that you don’t want that.” It’s not a dig at her vulnerability, but a real concern I would hate to see come to fruition. I don’t know much about these things, but nature is always seeking balance and what it doesn’t get from us, it’ll surely seek out another source.

Her shoulders heave up and down, but eventually, resolve spreads through her limbs. “Okay. I’ll do it for their sakes.”

“It’s going to be okay. I promise.”

She nods and I take her hand, discreetly leading us to the bathroom. Once inside, I find a disposable razor that’s tucked away in the extra toiletries at the back of their cabinets. Patting the counter, I instruct Becca to hoist herself up. Her body vibrates with fear, but she does as I say.

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” She blows out a shaky breath.

Setting the razor on the counter, I start to undo her buttons.

“What are you doing?” Her hand on my wrist stills my movements.

“Making you more comfortable.” I kiss her forehead and continue. “Just trust me.” Complying, she lifts herself enough for me to pull her shorts down. Stepping between her legs, I take the razor in hand once again. With a deep breath, I bring it to my hand and dig it into my palm. The muted sensation is similar to that of a scratch, for which I’m very thankful. The tension in Becca’s shoulders drops just a bit.

“It’s not going to hurt much,” I reassure her. As if summoned by my blood, our guest of honor joins us. Gripping Becca’s chin, I keep her focused on me. “I need you to repeat after me and don’t stop saying these words.”

“Okay.”

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