Page 83 of My Lovely Tragedy
“Spit it out, darling.”
I rear back, affronted, gaping like a fish. “That’srude,” I snarl.
One lonely brow arches. A few lines on his forehead crease in tandem. “Iwas rude?Corvus,you ruined our dinner and smashed all the dishes in a petulant fit because you want me to slice your arm open again.”
His words wring my heart, sending a painful shock down into my gut, where it lingers with powerful aftershocks. I look at the mess I made, and shame burns hotter—but more than that,deeperthan that, ishimand the mess he’s made of me.
“You’ve been purposely keeping it from me,” I counter, ignoring the truth of his words. Tobias doesn’t call me out on it.
“Yes, but that does not mean I haven’t thought of it every waking moment.”
“Then why?—”
“Because I wanted to stretch you thin. See how long you could go. How far I could take your desperation. You’ve been itching for days, haven’t you?” I nod weakly, mouth dry. “I may be losing time with you, but I am not going to rush a single moment just for a quick flash of desperate needs and desires. You are far too important for such selfish whims.”
“This whole fucking thing is selfish,” I remind him. He hums as he pushes away from the counter, shards of glass falling from his lap toplinkagainst the wooden floor. He doesn’t even bother looking down—or at the mess in front of us. He rounds the counter and rifles through a drawer.
When he pulls his arm up, into my line of sight, my breath hitches. A gold pocketknife. Small—too small—but… perfect. “I sharpened this with you on my mind.” He flicks it open and drags his thumb along the edge. “Purelyselfish, as I did it right in front of you three nights ago while you slept so soundly.” He traces the handle.
“I told you I would give you what you need, Brooklyn. Just as you have with me. Do not doubt me.”
“I doubt you so much. Every day.Constantly,” I blurt, then bite my tongue against the words that just tumbled out. But if Tobias is offended, he doesn’t look it. If anything, he appears amused.
Bastard.
“What do you doubt?” he asks as he rounds the corner. My eyes flicker between his face and the knife. Saliva fills my mouth as my heart leaps.
I fucking hate it.
I wentyearswithout it. So long I fucking forgot how good it was, how it focused all the chaos.How easy it made everything.But I stopped. Because it’s not good for me. Because I felt myself leaning a little too close into death and the vague coldness within.
Now, here I am, foaming at the maw. Because Tobias made it okay. And it’s Tobias who controls it this time—not me.
“Everything.”
Hetsks,and that sound rakes down my spine.“Specifics, darling.”
“Uh.” I blink. Take a breath—sharp and heavy. “I doubt what you say to me. If you mean any of it. I doubt… I doubt why I’m here. If you’ll ever let me go. And what all of this means.”
“That’s it?” he asks after a moment. I shake my head, but I can’t talk anymore. “I know there is more.” He taps the blade against the heel of his hand, and I justwant.
“I doubt that you wantme,when instead you just want to havesomeone.” And because I’ve said it, I can’t fuckingstop it.“I doubt that you care about me at all. You’re lonely and in pain and—and there’s something wrong with you, and you hate it. I doubt you took me because I’m your fucking muse or because you find meinteresting—but because you just wanted to be seen by someone—anyone.”
My throat burns, and my vision swims, trapped beneath a pool of water. Never-ending. The first graze of touch ignites my flesh, and I flinch away with a hiss. The movement sends tears splattering, hot and salty and shameful. My lungs fill with it, even though it is the truth.
But that’s the thing about honesty.
When you… when youcareabout the person, it seems to hurt a hell of a lot more. Splaying their faults. Shining light on their pain and dispositions. Exposing insecurities. It feels as if you’re executing yourself in the process.
His pain is mine. Wrapped around every vein, every nerve. We share cells. Atoms.Blood.
My back hits the counter, dull and blunt. Fingers encircle my wrists, shoving their way beneath the chain bracelet. No longer gentle but harsh.Desperate.
“You…” Tobias’s voice fades off, drawing my attention upward. And hiseyes…
The gilded cage shatters around us in all shades of gold and scarlet. White and black and gray. Muddled and messy and crystal clear.
Turns out, it was made of glass. A protective measure to keephimout. To keep him away. Not to keepme in.A barrier for my own safety.
