He squeezes me until he absorbs the pain and insecurity; he’ll carry it instead.
I pull away from him and force a smile. This is what I get for letting myself open up to him. I exposed my raw underbelly, just to be rejected. Half of me understands why he stopped it, but the rest of me is annoyed. I’m more insecure now than ever.
I stand and touch his shoulder. “Well, happy birthday. Goodnight,” I tell him as I leave my untouched brownie on the table and head to my room.
I want to embrace the heat of the razor on my flesh. I want to let the pain pool to the surface and ripple over my skin. I want to physically feel the hate I have for myself. I want to draw every painful memory to the surface and bleed it out.
As soon as my fingers find the razor, there’s a knock on the door. I scramble to put it back in the drawer and bury it beneath books.
“Come in,” I call out.
Kevin’s heavy steps tread across the carpet. He sits on the bed and reaches a hand toward me, letting it land on my thigh. “I just wanted to make sure you’re alright.”
I’m not. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
He takes a deep breath. “Please don’t be upset with me. You’re just so young, and I—”
I groan so loud that it cuts him off mid-sentence. “Don’t call me that. I’ve been through more shit than most eighteen-year-olds. I give myself two years of maturity for every year of abuse. That makes me . . .” I count in my head. “Like, thirty-three.”
He chuckles, which just angers me further.
“Don’t laugh at me.”
“I’m not laughing at you, I’m laughing with—”
My lips don’t even twitch upward. He wipes a hand through his hair.
“Listen, Skye, you’re young and fragile—”
I open my mouth to argue, but he holds up a hand.
“Don’t talk, just listen for two minutes. I need you to understand something. I’m attracted to you, but I will do anything to protect you. That includes not sleeping with you. I don’t want to hurt you, and I can’t protect you properly if I let you get too close to me. I know you can’t see it right now, but this is the right thing to do. I have to battle my demons before I can take on yours too.” He smiles at me.
Part of me says, Fuck you, I don’t have demons!
The other half of me says, Bitch, yes you do. You have a whole legion of them.
He pulls me into him and kisses my head. It just confuses me further.
“Go to sleep, Skye,” he says in a soothing tone that almost placates me.
He slips off his shoes and crawls into bed with me. I rest my head on his chest and listen to his thumping heartbeat. He brushes his hand through my hair until I stop thinking about how the razor’s cool metal will take the pain away. Somehow, his touch dulls the ache.