"You want to stay up all night?" I ask.
"Of course." She rolls onto her front and rests her head against me. "These could be our last moments together."
I don't answer. Dove taps her finger against my chest and I brush mine through her hair.
"Have you thought about that?" She already sounds choked up, and it makes me feel like shit.
"About what, Dove?" I ask with a sigh.
"About what you're doing to me," she whispers. "To us. You're leaving me. You're abandoning me again."
"As far as I remember, the last time you begged me to leave," I remind her, kissing her head.
"I never m-meant it." She's stuttering now, making me want her again because I love this shy, blushing side of her. "Please, don't leave me again."
"I have to," I reply firmly. "We won't talk about that anymore. You can stay with me right up until I walk into that station, if you want. There's a big chance we won't see each other after that, Dove. A long time might pass before we can be together again. Do you understand?"
I'm pouring salt into our wounds and my little bird does nothing to stop me. But I shouldn't have expected anything else. She knew I was going to do this, she asked me for it. Because Dove and I, we're always hurting one another. It's what we live for. And I'm not going to let her stop me now, when it's my fucking turn.
"You're such a little pain slut," I tell her in a low whisper.
"What's that got to do with anything?" she crinkles her forehead, offended.
"Nothing," I grin. "Just something I really need to remember."
"What else do you know about me?" she wonders.
"Everything." I wink at her. "Try me."
"What's my favorite dish?"
"Pad Thai," I laugh. "Too easy. Come on. Make me work for it."
"Hmm..." She looks up at me through those thick, dark lashes and smiles. I understand in moments like these why I've killed for her. And why I may never stop. "Okay, what about my mother's name?"
"Britta," I smirk.
"Are you kidding me?"
"What?" I shrug. "I know she goes by Brittany, but I figured you'd want her real name."
"Creep." She rolls over but I catch her, pulling her close to me.
"What did you call me?"
"A creep," she giggles as I bite her shoulder. "You're a fucking stalker."
"A stalker?" I whisper in her ear. "Fuck yeah I am. And you better keep looking over your shoulder for the rest of time, little bird. Because I'll always be fucking watching.
Chapter 42
Nox
We spend the night together. Talking, touching, watching. I memorize the way Dove's fingertips feel as they glide over my skin. I commit her eyes to memory. I get hard and fuck her again. We lie together silently after that. The minutes are ticking by and we both know we'll have to say goodbye soon.
Her desperation kicks in as I get up from the bed, telling her I have to shower and get dressed so we can leave. She starts begging then, first softly, then louder, her words turning into sobs. It fucking breaks me to drag her in the shower and turn the cold water on above us. It showers us in a cool curtain that clears my mind and makes Dove crumble into a ball on the shower tile, sobbing my name and begging me to stay.
I expected this, so I'm prepared.
I wash her hair with her favorite shampoo that I bought when I first got to LA.
I whisper into her ear, telling her she'll be okay and that I'll always be watching. Who would have thought stalking her would be something I'd use to help her feel better.
After our shower, we dry our hair. I tug on Dove's waves while she fusses about her face devoid of any makeup. I tell her she looks beautiful, lying. I can't tell her how she really looks. Heartbreakingly gorgeous, so naturally stunning my heart breaks because I won't be there now, to watch her grow older, wiser, to have my children, to be my wife. I want to fucking cry, but my father showed me that's not a thing a man does, so I fucking don't. Instead, I wipe Dove's tears as she realizes she's better off with a bare face, since she'll be crying more and more as the minutes tick by.
She clings to me as I get dressed and dress her as well. I kiss her forehead.
"You don't have to come with me," I tell her.
"No, please!" She jumps up and throws her arms around my neck. "Please. Let me come with you."
"Only to the door, Dove," I mutter. "I'm going inside alone."
"Okay," she nods, eager. "Just let me come with you, please."
"Fine," I nod. "Come on. Car's waiting downstairs."
"Can't we walk?"
I glance at the clock. "We might be late."
"Please." She clings to me. "Please. Let's walk."