Page 25 of Revive
She tugged his shirt higher.
“Will you leave it?” There was a sharp edge to his tone.
Alle raised her head to look at him. “Aren’t I allowed to see you naked? What’s up, have you had a really rotten tattoo done? Is it so embarrassing I’m going to dump you on the spot? You’ve not had a pussy tattoo, have you? Or a dick?” What she really feared was discovering his and Xane’s names woven above his heart, but his skin in that spot remained pleasingly devoid of ink, just fuzzy with a diamond of blond hair that stretched out on either side towards his nipples. “Please, take this off.” She offered up pretty eyes and a pout.
Spook wrenched the fabric back down to his waist, tearing it free of her grip in the process.
Alle reared back onto her knees. “What the hell, Spook?”
He, in turn, reared away from her.
She’d seen him have a panic attack before, the build-up had looked frighteningly similar to this. Glassy eyes. The pounding heart rate. The faint trembling of his lower lip.
“Jeez, it’s no big deal. It can stay on. I just like the closeness of skin on skin, that’s all. Really, it’s not a problem.” Her words seemed to cow him, momentarily, then they were back making his expression twist. “What is it?”
Pain flashed through his eyes, coupled with something suspiciously akin to embarrassment.
“Is the dick tat on your back?”
Slowly, he shook his head. A flash of resignation followed. He grasped the neckline of his top and pulled, peeling the shirt off and flinging it away.
It took a moment for her comprehension to catch up with the vision of him bared for her. It wasn’t any sort of new ink he was concerned about showing. Stretchy crepe sleeves covered both his lower arms.
“Oh, shit,” she hissed between her teeth, unable to contain the gasp. Her blood ran cold. She couldn’t, couldn’t look away, even though what she was seeing chilled her to the core and made her fucking quake. She’d seen the old silvery scars that ran the lengths of his forearms from wrists to elbows in the past. Knew the tale of their making, but bandages, that suggested fresh wounds. “What…” She swallowed hard. “What did you do?”
Spook’s lips were compressed into almost invisibility. He refused to meet her gaze. He offered one arm up instead for her inspection.
Hesitantly, Alle peeled the crepe sleeve from his left arm. The milk pale skin of his inner arm was scored with a myriad of thin red cuts. A couple of what were presumably deeper cuts had been covered with Elastoplasts.
“Why?”
No answer. And still no eye contact. But then she didn’t need him to look her in the eyes to feel the waves of anxiety and pain coming off him.
Alle gently traced her fingers over the cuts closest to his wrist. Xane’s words from earlier suddenly made a heck of a lot more sense, as did him trekking to this end of the island in the dark to check up on them.
“Do you want to talk to me about it?”
“Not really.”
“Are you talking to somebody about it?”
He shrugged. “Not sure there’s much to say that hasn’t already been said. I wasn’t trying to… I’m not suicidal, I just needed… an outlet.” His tongue wet his lip.
Alle let go of his arm. “I’m sorry, Spook. I shouldn’t have pushed you to show me this if you weren’t ready. I’m always pushing you too much.”
“I’m not made of fucking china. Don’t treat me like I’m going to shatter.”
“I didn’t mean to imply that.”
“Well, you did, and you are. Shit!” He hopped off the sofa and paced away from her.
“Spook?” She followed, alarmed.
“Don’t,” he snapped. Then more calmly added, “I need a minute. Please, give me a minute.”
Stark bollock naked, he walked out of the front door.
Alle watched him stride towards the sea, until the door bouncing back on its hinges cut off her view. She stood a moment, frozen, wondering if it was best to obey, give him the space he’d asked for or go after him. Fear won out. She couldn’t let him stew in the dark. Having retrieved and pulled on his jumper again, she followed him outdoors, and discovered him only a short distance away pacing close to where the surf was tickling the sand.
