Page 87 of An Unexpected Ascension
“I love how much you hate it,” I whisper against her mouth.
“And I hate how much you love it.”
Her words were like an ice bath biting into my skin. Rearing my head, I scoff.
“I find your kind of Hell to be entertaining. Trust that I only love to provoke you because gifting you kindness goes against everything I’ve ever promised myself.”
“Ah yes, the terrifying demon only kisses me gently because I hate it. Last night, even if I hadn’t asked otherwise, you would have made love to me. Admit it, you like me.”
“Not a chance in Hell, Angel.”
Not a chance in Hell.
“I’m really not so bad. Perhaps when one of my exes die, you can ask?—”
She goes utterly silent, her breath halting. I watch as her eyes flutter closed, a tear slipping out and down her cheeks. Her fists grip the sheets, twisting and wringing, until she finally gasps.
Concern hovers, but I do not let it in. I refuse to allow such a feeling to consume me. Instead, I watch her cooly, unbothered.
She groans, a clog in the back of her throat as if the tears had choked her with a dying grip. I wait for her to spew a long speech of what she saw, but she only rolls to her side away from me and curls up.
Whatever happened to this Fentonelli girl isn’t my business, in fact, I should relish in the knowledge that her ending was miserable. She deserves nothing less.
Yet, my mouth opens, and I ask anyway.
“What was it this time?”
“Nothing.”
“Clearly.”
“What do you care?” she snaps, her voice muffled by the blanket.
I sigh. “Because your crying will only keep me up. Just spill it.”
“How could I have been so weak?”
“You’re going to have to be a little more specific.”
“My last boyfriend. I saw it, I saw him hit me and I stayed. It’s been coming back in jagged pieces, flashes here and there, but I saw it so clearly this time. Felt it.”
Her hand cradles her cheek as if she felt the punch that landed in her memories. My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth, unable to form any words.
“My father left us when I was a child, my mother died years later,all I had was him. He housed me, fed me, looked after me. I owed him my life for keeping me alive and I guess he felt the same.”
“Okay,” I say, the word pressing between my teeth. I roll her over to face me and pinch her cheeks with my hand. “He didn’t love you. You deserved better. I’m sorry you had to live through such shit. Can we please go to bed now?”
I hate it. Hate how she cries for herself. I hate how she feels the pain like it still riddles her, but most of all I hate how my heart feels in this very moment. How my bones scream at me for being such a liar. Yet, my words still came out as harshly as I wanted them to, giving nothing of my heart away.
“Fuck you.” The curse sputters out of reddened lips.
Lips that I can’t stop myself from tasting. My tongue laps at the tears that soak her mouth, then vie for entry. She bites and rips into me, bleeding me as the rage consumes her.
And I let her.
“Does it feel good?” I growl, tearing the sheets from her before crushing her with my body. “To hurt me as he hurt you?”
Her fist smacks into the side of my head, the room swirling for only a heartbeat. Her eyes are ablaze with madness, stuck between knowing she’s wrong to do this and being unable to stop herself.
