Page 47 of The Silent Night Stalker
“Hey, you know what we didn’t do tonight?”
“What?”
Fuck, his voice sounds so frail and sad. I did that. I made him feel worse when he was just starting to feel good. Even though we’ve only known each other for a week, he’s really blossomed.
“We never gave each other a New Year’s kiss.”
He raises his head and sniffs. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. Can I get that kiss now? I know I’m not as pretty as I usually am with the bruises and all.” I wink at him, pulling out a small smile. “But I sure would like one. It’s bad luck not to.”
He leans forward, and I take his lips in mine, tasting like salt from his tears. The kiss is short. It’s mostly symbolic anyway. I just want to get a smile from him, and it works. “Now, we should have good luck for the rest of the year.”
His body relaxes in my lap, and he’s smiling even more. “I’m sorry for… how I reacted. Lots of thoughts are going on in my head.”
“You don’t need to apologize for feeling shit, Con.”
“I’m kind of a mess, if you haven’t noticed.”
“We’re all messy.”
He says nothing as he stares at the presents under the tree. Then, to my surprise, he reaches for one of the boxes. They’re all small. I got him a few little things I thought he might like. It wasn’t the easiest since we hardly know each other.
Honestly, it’s been a whirlwind of a holiday between losing Enrique and nearly getting killed. Now, my attempted murderer is in my lap, about to open one of my presents. I guess I’m as unhinged as he isbecause I can’t bring myself to care or be bothered by how I’m quickly growing attached to Constantine.
He reaches for the thin, rectangular box first. That one is the most expensive. I think he’ll love it once he gets over his fear. And if he doesn’t, I’ll use it for myself.
His hands visibly shake as he pulls the ribbon away.
“I know in my heart that you wouldn’t put gore into this box, but my brain is screaming at me to throw it and run. I want to believe so badly that there’s something good inside.”
My heart breaks wide open for him again, and I kiss his temple. “You’re being so brave right now.”
He huffs a humorless laugh. “I don’t feel brave. I feel like I’m going to throw up.”
“Just you opening the gift is incredibly brave.”
Once he tosses the ribbon aside, he takes a deep, shuddering breath, then tears open the paper. He slowly removes the lid of the box and gazes inside. I don’t know how long he stares at his first real Christmas gift, processing what he’s seeing. Maybe he got gifts before his mother married that piece of shit, maybe not.
Constantine lifts the slip of paper from the box and reads it. “Is this real?”
“Yes, baby.”
“Y-you got me a gift certificate for a… tattoo? From the same place I always go to?” It was a good thing he told me who the artist was when I asked him, because I want another tattoo, too, and the artist is phenomenal.
“Do you like it?”
He presses the box and gift certificate to his chest as his eyes water again. “I’ve never received anything more precious in my entire life.”
I gently finger back his fallen bangs. “Feel a little better?”
He nods, but doesn’t look at me. “Yeah.”
The guilt from earlier is soon replaced with something else. Warmth? Yeah, warmth. I feel it all over and deep into my soul that I could bring him some happiness, and maybe, just maybe, he’ll have a little less anxiety next year.
“Do you want to open your other gifts?”
“Okay.”
