Page 84 of Make Me Bleed
I can’t believehow different things have been since Abel and I have talked.
We’re in an honest to Godrelationship,and it’s the best thing I’ve ever had in my life. My runt is actually back with me… It’s something that feels so surreal, I almost can’t believe it. But he’s here, in my arms, sleeping. And I can’t take my eyes off him.
“Beautiful…” I murmur to his sleeping form, knowing he can’t hear me but needing to say it regardless because he looks utterly ethereal like this—curled up against me, pink hair spiked out away from his head, face flushed from sleep, and lips pursed against my pec as he snores ever so slightly—which he would hate to be told about.
Three weeks.
That’s all it’s been, but it already feels like it’s been forever.
Being with Abel is easy—easier than I thought it would be.
I don’t have any qualms about people knowing now. It’s like losing him… well, it changed me. Made me realize what’s important. And caring what people think fuckingisn’t.
Now, my brain on the other hand… that’s not so easy to bypass, but I’ve been doing all right. Strangely enough, I don’t feel the urge to want to forget everything all the time. Not thatAbel being back in my life is the end-all-be-all solution, but Luke hasn’t been bothering me lately, and I’ve been too focused on my runt, basketball, and school to really think twice about him.
It makes me wonder if this is what it’s supposed to be like.
Effortless, like this…
“I can smell the dust burning off the clogs in your brain from thinking so hard,” Abel mutters against my chest, and I snort, reaching up to drag my fingers through his hair. I massage his scalp for a moment, making him moan, and then, I tug on the strands, and he arches his back, sending his groin bumping right into my hip.
“Hey, rude,” he snaps, but he’s breathless and panting.
“Yeah, you love rude, though,” I remind him with a smirk as I reach down and grab his chin to tilt his head up for a kiss. Abel follows easily and meets my lips for a slow kiss that’s only lips because morning breath.
“Hey, are you staying for dinner tonight?” I ask after I pull away.
Abel’s brows draw together before he arches one perfectly. “I mean, sure…” he drawls slowly. “But why, what’s tonight?”
“You’re kidding me right?”
“No…”
“It’s Christmas Eve, Abel.”
He straightens. “You’re fucking kidding me.”
“Nope.
“No. Absolutely not.” Abel gets up and starts to put on his clothes that were discarded on the floor from the night before. I watch in amusement as he struggles with his holey jeans before giving up and dropping onto my bed with a sigh. He drags his fingers through his messy hair and drops his head between his shoulders. “I’m not ready,” he says finally, andthere it is.
“You don’t really have a choice, runt.”
He whirls around, eyes wide, cheeks flushed in indignation. “Excuse me?”
“I already told Ma you’d be here. Don’t wanna let her down, do you?” I watch the muscle in his jaw jump repeatedly, and I know I’ve got him when he doesn’t say anything. Manipulative, sure. But I’ll do what I’ve gotta do.
“That’s fucked up, Peris.”
“I know.”
“And rude.”
“Yep, probably.”
He crosses his arms over his bare chest, and I’m drawn to the tattoos scattered there. “I’m mad at you.”
“Sure. That’s fine.” I smirk at him, and he rolls his eyes. “Because I can make it so you’re not mad at me, if you want.” That gets his attention. He straightens a little bit and looks at me warily.
