Page 134 of Endgame
Yes. Our.
I’m too tired to analyze it, anyway.
The exhaustion isn’t physical though. I don’t yawn. My eyelids don’t droop.
My head’s a mess from the way Aurora got to me earlier. How I touched her, how I spoke to her.
My…
Fuck that. No. I don’t have a heart.
I have needs. I have desires.
I have her.
I lose my clothes.
Naked and wanting, I hover by our bed and watch her while she sleeps.
Beautiful. Vulnerable.
Finding pleasure in her is wrong. Getting attached to her is as disrespectful as spitting on my family’s graves.
Exhaustion gives way to hunger.
She’s naked on her side, relieved of her collar, showered and perfect.
My eyes roam over her body. Feasting on the shadows and highlights that play on her face.
Her dark eyelashes fan over her rosy cheeks. She reaches me without even being awake for it.
I don’t turn on the lamp.
Once I do, she’ll wake up. We’ll end up talking.
This little brat wasn’t done with me when I left.
Back then, I was stronger. I might give in to her now.
My goals will get blurry. Muddy. More than they already have.
A fist locks around my lungs, pushing all the air out.
Feels a lot like regret. Mostly from not being able to love her like she deserves.
My fingertips stroke her skin, the beginning of an apology. Uncertain, quiet, almost tender.
I’m caressing Mrs. Alder’s cheek. Her shoulder. Her bare arm.
Mrs. Alder.
What used to be a formality is a tether now.
Whatever barriers I’ve put between us, they’re not going to last.
In fact, they’re crumbling, and fast.
So fast that I let myself surrender to this moment.
