Page 77 of Problems

Jack tapped my forehead dragging me out of my head.

"What are you thinking so hard about?" He smirked at me as he moved closer. "Smoke is leaking out of your ears."

I thought about it for five seconds. There was no use dwelling on it. "What do I give you?"

Jack's brows lifted as he stared at me. "What do you mean?"

I relayed what I thought about his relationship with Finn and Ronan and how they worked for him. But when it came to me, I was stuck. Why keep someone around who bullied him and pushed him around for the fun of it? All I could come up with was sex which I was fine with but there was a strange part of me that wanted to be something less… replaceable.

"Oh, easy." Jack kissed me. "Freedom, duh."

"Duh?"

Jack didn't have any hang-ups on his answer like I did.How was he so sure?

"Yeah, with you I get to be myself. I mean I get to be myself with Finn and Ronan but it's different. I get to fuck up knowing you will laugh at me but will fuck up right next to me. Oh, and you don't hound me to be anything but myself. Ugh I feel like I'm all over the place with this." Jack wiped his hand down his face hiding away his cute pouty lips as he scrambled to explain it to me.

"That is where I'm stuck too. There is something in the pits of my soul that says you're mine, but I can't understand it sometimes. It’s kind of like when you go for a kill and you're not sure how you want to go about it. You know it’s going to be a great one and that it will excite you and give you a rush like no other, but you're stuck with this sensation in the middle of it that you can't possibly describe because it's just always there and then you wonder if you're going to mess up the kill and the feeling will be gone."

Jack scooted back, his brows furrowed and mouth dipped in a frown. "I.. I don't—umm." He glanced behind him at the door before looking back at me. His brown eyes were wide and searching my face. "Do you want to kill me Cian?" He whispered.

"I've thought about it often."

I smiled. I couldn't help it. Jack's death had been in many of my dreams, and it was always a good one when it was done at my hands. He'd be a gorgeous corpse. I probably wouldn't ever part from it. I couldn't keep a plant alive but I sure as shit knew how to preserve a body.

"Are you thinking about killing me right now?"

I blinked a few times at the worry in Jack's big brown eyes. "Maybe."

"The fudge?" Jack sat up.

He groaned as he looked between his thighs. I smirked at the sticky mess covering him.

"I would keep you."

Jack's head snapped up, his eyes bore into me as if I'd lost my mind, but I felt more sane than I ever had before. There was no unbearable itch to go out and kill. I wasn't craving the thrill of taking someone's life, at least not like before. Having Jack in my arms curbed some of my twisted desires.

"I don't know if that's worse or better. What would you even do with my corpse? Wait I don't want—"

"I'd fuck you all the time. Hold you at night as long as I could. Dress you up and keep you clean. We'd spend every single second together. You would never escape me."

Jack's mouth hung open as he stared at me.

"Is that not normal?" I asked.

Didn't other people feel this way? When they professed that they couldn't live without someone, wasn't this it? If it wasn't then, weren't they all lying?

"Nope." Jack shook his head and shut his mouth. Silence weighed down on us as he continued to stare me down. "You're serious."

"We would never part."

"That's—" Jack's head tilted as he nibbled on his lip. "Sweet?" He dragged out the word as if he wasn't sure what to say.

"Then you will—"

He lifted his hand, stopping me from asking anything.

"First let's unpack some—" He wildly gestured at me. "of this."

---