Page 21 of One Twisted Lie

He blushes and averts his gaze. “I just—”

“What?” I press. Now I want to know. I’ve embarrassed him. I didn’t mean to—okay maybe a little bit—but now I feel bad. “I won’t make fun of you.”

He hesitates and looks at me skeptically. Yeah, I get it. He doesn’t look at me as he speaks, only plays with the ties of his track pants. “I guess Heathcliff and Cathy’s love…it’s pretty intense.”

“Even if their love was fucked up?” I ask because that story is not a good one. Those two were terribly toxic. It’s almost like they hated how much they loved each other. They tortured each other with their love. I don’t think it’s supposed to be a romantic story.

“Yeah. Even though…”

He meets my gaze, and I can see the question there. Is a fucked-up love not a love worth having?

I don’t know the answer to that, and I don’t want to. Things just got too real. We’ve gotten too deep, and we have to get ourselves back on track. I grab my computer and place it on his lap. “Here, let’s watch.”

We wordlessly watch an episode, gasping at all the intense moments, looking at each other when something dramatic happens, and laughing at the hidden comedy in the serious tension.

Eventually, I feel his head on my shoulder, and I look to see that he’s fallen asleep. He’s actually pretty okay when he’s sleeping. All those fierce angles of his face look soft. That dickish air he carries around with him disappears. He’s just a guy.

A guy that likes romantic stories and anime. A guy that threatens freshman into running his errands. A guy that wants to play my video games. A guy that I sort of like today more than I did before.

So, I fall asleep too. Lulled by the sound of his even breaths and the raging fight in the background. A fight against the Titans, a fight for life, and a fight for my own sanity.

Chapter 11

Ozymandias

I peel my eyes open. There’s a bit of drool on my chin as I shift in the bed and yawn. With my eyes half-closed and my mind foggy, it takes me a moment to realize that I fell asleep while watching television with Carter. When my head finally clears enough, and I wipe away my eye-boogers, I’m mortified when I see how I’m lying.

Carter, to nobody’s surprise, is working on his computer. I, to my great surprise, have found a way to slink down his body, rest my head on his stomach, and intertwine my legs with his. I flush as I scoot away a bit, embarrassed and awkward.

“I’m sorry,” I say groggily as I sit up.

He just shrugs, rubbing my back gently as he continues to stare at his screen. “No, it’s okay.”

“Do you feel better?”

“Yeah, a bit,” he says as he closes his laptop and turns to me, propping himself up on his elbow. “Hey…”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for helping take care of me.”

I mimic his posture and try my best to shrug, despite the fact that I sort of, kind of like his appreciation. “It’s not really a big deal.”

“Yeah, well, for you it is,” he scoffs, moving my sweaty hair off my forehead. “Thank you, princess.”

I groan and playfully shove his shoulder. “I hate it when you call me that.”

“No, you don’t,” he says decidedly. Damn, he’s too smart.

“I hate that I don’t hate it,” I clarify.

He furrows his brow as he scoots closer. “Why?”

“Princess,” I spit with distaste and a shake of my head. “The way you treat me when we fuck, the way I act…I feel weak.”

“You shouldn’t feel that way.”

“What else would you call it? I turn into nothing when you touch me. All rational thought leaves me. I become a whimpering slut.”

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