Page 21 of My Lovely Tragedy
Selfish.
Brooklyn drags his own gloved fingers over a branch, pushing down and sending snow flying into the air when the branch flings up again. He shrugs, feigning nonchalance, but the tightening in his shoulders speaks otherwise.
“Yeah, I have.”
I let silence fall, biding time.
Waiting.
Come on, darling boy…
He turns away to push deeper into the woods, surrounding us with the sound of the wind between the trees and the silence of animals long since hibernated.
A caw draws not only my attention but Brooklyn’s as well. We catch sight of black feathers, followed by a rapid flutter before it’s gone, leaving the silence louder than it started.
Crows.
“I’ve been on tour more times than I can count. Honestly, it’s just an endless fucking cycle at this point. We write a new album, tour it for months on end, then just start the process all fucking over again. And the guysloveit. I see it in everything we do. Especially in the music we make.” His posture is still rigid—hands tucked into his pockets, shoulders hunched near his ears.
Taking an educated guess, I say, “But not you?”
Brooklyn shakes his head. “No. It’s not… good for—” He stops abruptly, whirling around. His eyes narrow, defenses slamming back into place like wrought iron gates. “I don’t know why I’m saying any of this to you.” He sounds almost accusatory.
I simply find it endearing.
“Because you trust me.”
“I don’t know you,” he argues.
“But you could. If you wanted. You need only ask, Brooklyn.” I swallow against the pressure in my throat.
His eyes narrow into little blue slits, untrusting. “Why would I?”
“Because you can,” I respond simply. “Because you deserve to have someone know you. Therealyou.”
“I don’t even know who that is.”
“We could find out together.”
“That sounds crazy. Like, actually,literally,fucking crazy.” His eyes are as wide as they possibly could be. Worried and uncertain. But his body language, given the tension of distrust,begsto open for me. Tolet me in.
I nod my consensus, whole-heartedly agreeing. “It does.”
He throws his hands up. “Then why?”
I follow their movement, feel the minute breeze. “Because. It’s like I have said—I find you interesting.”
“That’s it? That’s theonlyreason?” he asks skeptically, and this time, I can’t fight back my smirk. Smart boy.
“No.” I don’t elaborate.
Brooklyn widens his stance, arms crossed, dark blonde brow raised. A small wrinkle appears in the center of his forehead. “Are you going to tell me?”
I drag my gaze over the length of his body, narrowly missing catching his eyes on the way back up. My stomach flips at the nearness, the desire to look into him almost too much to bear, but thinking of being seen, even when that is all I have ever wanted, is too much to burden. “Why don’t you try to figure that out for yourself? You let me see you, and I shall return the favor.”
Thatpiques his interest. I see it in the quick flash in his eyes, the bright flush to his cheeks. The straightening of his spine.
“Why would I want to know you, though?”
