Page 11 of Pretty Black

“They don’t know me. They only know the mask I put on for interviews and on stage.” I shook my head, sliding my fingers into his hair.

“If you think it wasn’t your lyrics that made them all fall in love, you’re wrong. Before most of them saw what you looked like or a single interview, they fell in love with our songs, and I know those are the real you. You can’t help but bleed all over our music.”

“They aren’t all sad.” I fought a smile.

“Bleeding doesn’t require them to be sad. They’re real. Parts of you put out on display.” He was right.

“Yes.”

“I love them. All of them. They run through my head constantly.”

“What?” I asked.

“So many of them are us. Parts of us. I can’t help it.”

“You’re just here with our own songs stuck in your head all day?”

He laughed, shaking his head. “No, but pointed lyrics come to mind when I feel those feelings.”

“Give me an example.” I wanted in his head as badly as he wanted in mine.

“You want the ones there right now?” he asked, a smile playing across his features. Brighter than he’d been since I woke.

“Yes.”

“Own me

possess me.

Let me deep in your bones.

Keep me.

Hold me.

Let me run my fingers through your soul.” He whispered into my cheek, warm breath stroking across my skin.

“Any conman can co-opt a quote to steal your heart. When he burns down in his soul, you’ll know,” I teased.

“I’m not co-opting your words to woo you.” Caspian rolled his eyes, but he softened a little. There wasn’t a manual on fixing your relationship after an attempted suicide, so I was taking shots in the dark here, trying to make him laugh and draw him out of the sorrow. I didn’t want him stuck in it like I was.

“Find a man who doesn’t send you another’s words. With ink-stained fingers, he writes them himself. He takes you into his soul, and makes you home, and delivers to you on scraps of paper the emotions it brings.”

“I should co-opt that for an interview.” He grabbed my hand, bringing fingers to his lips, kissing the ink stains. “Am I home?”

“The most anything has ever been. You make me feel safe.”

He smiled and pressed kisses to my palm. “I’ve never wanted to be anything more than your safe space, Iris Rose.”

“Stay. Like this today.”

“You want me on top of you all day?” He released my hand and rested his elbows on either side of my head. “Won’t this get uncomfortable?”

“No, it’s comforting.” I could tell by his expression it didn’t make sense, but it wasn’t something I could explain, and he seemed to accept it.

“Are we going to talk?” he asked after a hesitation.

I exhaled, turning my face to hide in his shoulder. “What’s the point?” It wasn’t only that I didn’t want to relive any of it, and the deep shame of being so weak I ended up on the top of a building wasn’t high up on my list to admit to either.

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