Page 13 of Mayfly

If only you fucking knew.“Isn’t that what got us both in trouble in the first place?”

“It’s got a way of finding us. That’s for sure.”

Tensing my wrist, I wriggle it until he lets go. But the intensity of his gaze doesn't waver when he frees me. It becomes more powerful. Like an owner walking their dog off-leash.

“Come,” he says, and I fall back into step behind him. Because I was never worthy of being on his level.

“Wait here,” is his next command, and it slices straight through me, right down to my vile, perverted core.

His absence is immediate, but I stand rooted to the pavement. I watch him blend in until the crowd swallows him, and I’m left stewing in a purgatory of my own unwarranted and confusing thoughts. Leaning back against a shopfront, I look across the street to Hyde Park. But instead of a distraction, it only feeds my imagination.

A secluded spot.

Somewhere we won’t be seen.

Would he let me apologize in the only way I know how?

As if summoned by my need for him, Jude reappears at my side. His hand is on my back, and he looks at me as though he can read my thoughts. A flush creeps up my neck, then burns with my refusal to part with them.

“What’s that?” I ask, nodding towards the white box tucked beneath his other arm.

He smiles and tilts his head as his hand slides lower on my back. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Are you always this cryptic? Or is this just for my benefit?”

“I’m just building suspense.” He breaks all contact and starts to walk away. “Keep up,” he says, not looking back. “There’s a good boy.”

I clench my jaw as the words roll off his tongue, but his gravity draws me back within seconds. Then, like he’s doing it on purpose, he allows his arm to graze mine.

“Good boys get rewards,” he tells me while staring straight ahead as we wait to cross the street.

“Do bad boys get better ones?”

The speed of my reply has him smirking. “I guess you’ll have to wait to find out.”

“There will come a point when I’m not prepared to play your game anymore. And when that time comes, I can’t be held responsible for what happens.” As the people around us cross the street towards the park, I take a step directly in front of Jude and turn to face him. “Consider this your warning.” I take the lead despite not knowing where we're going, and start shuffling backwards across the Pelican crossing.

I’m halfway to the other side before he moves. And for a brief second, the edges of his mouth twitch before he raises his brow. To everyone else, it might seem like a simple gesture, but I can see it for the declaration of war that it is.

He lets me walk where I chose for a while longer as he ambles behind me, suspiciously quiet. Never getting close enough that it looks like we’re together, but also never far enough away that I couldn’t hear him if he were to speak.

Undirected, I venture into Hyde Park. As expected, it’s busy with people doing the shit people do on days in London where the sun isn’t completely hidden by clouds.

With a whistle—a fucking whistle—I turn back to see Jude heading off down a path that breaks off the main one. If it were any other person in the entire world, I’d be instantly designing their spectacular splatter punk demise for daring to think I’d answer to a goddamn whistle. But from Jude Clarke, accompanied by a jerk of his chin, my traitorous feet are running along behind him. And my full attention is locked on the confident rock of his shoulders as his long coat swings around his legs.

He leads me off the designated path and to the opposite side of a row of rose bushes, and trellises covered with vines. Beneath a large weeping tree is an unoccupied white bench, as though this was all planned out and part of a shitty movie.

“Sit,” Jude orders with his back still to me.

It’s abrupt, rude even. But I don’t question it.

I can’t.

I don’t want to.

And so I sit. A character out of place in my own story.

Jude remains standing, his back still to me, the fluttering edges of his coat catching bursts of wind. The small white box he’s been holding onto is nowhere in sight, and I’m filled with a strange, non typical anticipation.

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