Page 92 of My Lovely Tragedy
A slow but deep throb radiates from my arms. A reminder of life. How real it is. How close I toe the line.
How much it all hurts in the end. In the beginning.
In the now and always.
So, I focus on the sensation until it drags me out, and I’m forced to accept his body against mine. Warm and strong and real. Fingers resting gently across my abdomen. Soft breaths pillowing against the top of my head. Legs entwined with my own.
That fucking key, sharp and undeniable against my back.
I scratch my nail across one of the links dangling over the side of the couch. Rust and dried blood flake off and build under my fingernail—not that I can tell other than the feeling of added pressure. Blood from last night remains caked, dried and itchy. Pulling my skin taut.
My gaze flickers down across the gray fabric now stained. Ruined.
Like me.
Like us,the voice in my head sneers, and I flinch. The movement must have woken Tobias because his arm constricts, halting the rest of my inhale. “Mmm, darling.” He buries his nose into my hair and pulls in a breath. My nose wrinkles, thinking about him smelling all the sweat andwhatever.But he doesn’t seem to mind so, fuck it, I guess.
What the fuck does it matter anyway?
“Are you okay?” he asks tenderly.
There’s something about his tone that makes me uneasy. I’m used to him being gentle. Even savage and confusing.
But this—this… softness. I can’t fucking stand it. It hurts more than all the rest.
“Don’t act like you care,” I snap, but of course, my voice is nothing more than a rasp. My face heats with my inevitable humiliation, and I’ve never been more grateful to be facing away from Tobias.
Because if I weren’t, I’d search out his eyes. And he’d meet mine, and it would all fall apart.
I roll over anyway.
His dark lashes brush the highest points of his cheekbones just before they flutter open. And even through the clouds, the sun shines just enough to melt his garnet irises into warm pools of crimson honey.
I fall inside of them, lost and gasping for breath. But no… that’s my mind gasping. Breaking.
Shattering.
And through it all, Tobias remains.
“Breathe,corvus,” he whispers. “Just take a breath. Feel it in your lungs.”
“I-I can’t fucking feel any-anything but y-you,” I gasp through a sob. His fingers brush through my tangled hair, finding rest against my skull. He pulls me against him. My nose scrapes through his chest hair, coiled and wiry. I burrow into it, finding solace in his ease.
The thin chain around his neck dangles, brushing across my forehead in a gentle, taunting caress. I reach up and finger the gold. It’s silky, almost buttery and… airy against my skin. I clamp it in my fist, dragging down until the key falls into my palm—and then I trap that within.
Tobias hums softly as I bring the key closer. My mutilated forearm rests against the right side of my face, smelling of copper and dirty metal, fist pressed to my temple and weighed down by steel.
He drags his palm over the notches in my spine, each stroke made with intent. It draws me deeper into him. Into a cesspool of vanilla and blood honey.
The teeth of the key burn into my palm, etching their existence and contrasting perfectly with the silk of the chain. I like it. Until Tobias opens his fucking mouth.
“I need to get you cleaned up, lovely.”
I roll my eyes, even though he can’t see me. I fist the key tighter, pull a little harder. His head dips until his chin knocks into the crown of my head.
“That chain is very delicate,” he murmurs.
“I don’t fucking care,” I bite back, but it’s a lie. Because I do and he knows it. He tastes the lie as it leaves my tongue just as I do.
