Page 122 of My Lovely Tragedy
Releasing the second is easier than the first. One tensed, bated breath, and then, it’s gone.
My darling crow is free. Gilded cage disintegrated. Hourglass shattered.
The chains slink onto the floor like the steel snakes they are, pooled around me. I barely cast them a glance before circling the delicate bones around Brooklyn’s wrists. The bruises and impressions are stark, even in the shadows.
They seem deep enough to remain permanent, and for a split moment of depravity, I hope they are. Though, I suppose it’s more than a split second because I am always wishing for my darling to bear my marks.
To be eternally stained with my name.
But my angel deserves to be free from as much of me as he possibly can.
I drag my thumb over his scarred forearms, grazing over the ridges of a scab. I pick at the edge of one, watching a bead of blood well in its place, black in the night. I swipe over it, smearing it across his pale flesh before sucking my thumb into my mouth.
The barest traces of copper linger on my tongue, not nearly as strong as I need it, butenough.
It has to be enough.
On quaking legs, I drag the chains across the floor, scraping the wood for the last time as I pile them on the hearth in a tangle of rusted steel before turning back to my beloved and dropping to the floor in front of him again.
Soon,I will move to my chair and wait for him to wake, giving him the space he will certainly need, but for now…
For now, I will selfishly get my fill for the last time. Stealing what he leaves exposed and nourishing myself with the echoing haunts of his voice telling me he loves me.
Because I’m a sick bastard, and I love him, too.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-ONE
BROOKLYN
I feela smile stretching the tight skin of my face before my eyes even open. And I feel warm, bathed in a comfortable, diffusing heat as I stretch, limbs extending to the point of shaking.
My brain tingles gooey warmth, faint traces of sleep mingling with fresh, dousing flickers of reality. I press my face into my shoulder, stifling a yawn before digging the heels of my palms into my eye sockets, chasing all the different shades that dance behind my lids—and then my hands still, causing a deep, vibrant shade of moss-green to come forth and swarm over the darkness.
My heart, once slow and measured, cracks against my sternum, splitting the bone in two, hitching my breath and then stealing it completely.
There’s a creak, then an echo so loud, it’s haunting.
Stillness.A buzzing, terrifying stillness.
My arms tremble as I pull them away, blinking against the blur covering my eyeballs like a film.
Sight comes in flickers. Confusing at first as I’m met with my bare hands. Just as I remember them—how they’ve always been. I trace every finger, down over my palms, following the lines to the outline of my wrists, bruised and mottled.
The sight makes me smile before it falls right off my face.
I shoot up with a gasp and nearly topple over. Feet thud against the wooden floor, and then two hands are on me, arms around me, applying pressure. I fall into their weight, needing the balance as air comes too fast, not staying inside me long enough to give relief.
Panic licks at the edges of my vision, drawing my breatheven shorter.I claw at my neck,needing to breathe.
I can’t—why can’t I?—
“Shh, my love. You’re okay. Listen to me.Feel me and focus.” Tobias’s words are the guide I’ve always needed, steering a clear path to whatever waits for me at the end.
“Good boy. That’s so good.” He brushes his hand over my head and down my hair, over and over, bathing me in comfort, and it’sso good,I forget everything else.
“Excellent job, darling. You’re doing wonderful.” I hum softly, breathing in familiar honey and vanilla. His body is solid and soft against me. A warm blanket I can bury myself in.
“Brooklyn,” Tobias coaxes.
