Thousands (Dollar 4)

“And now you don’t want my company, at all?”

“That was you, too.” Running a hand through her hair, the arching of her body made me goddamn insane. “If it was up to me, you would spend the night. Here. With me. We’d be completely honest with each other. I’d tell you everything you’re dying to learn about me, and you’d tell me everything that made you so afraid of your intelligence and perfectionism. We’d fall madly in—”

“Hold up. Intelligence and perfectionism?” I laughed coldly. “That’s what you think this is? Some glamorous, romantic condition that makes me smart because I have to repeat and repeat until I’m a master at something? That I’m in love with perfectionism just because I crave the best of the best and not because I can’t accept anything less?” I rolled my eyes, another dark chuckle escaping. “Once again, you’re being completely naïve, Pimlico.”

I didn’t ask this time if I should keep using that name. That was her name. Especially when she was acting like this…this crazy.

I was trying to be good.

Why the fuck did she want me to be bad?

“You think if we lived together, side by side in one room, we would survive each other?” I laughed. “That we’d fall madly in love—that was what you were going to say, wasn’t it?”

Pain lashed through her gaze before she tipped her nose arrogantly. “You’ll never know what I was going to say because you cut me off. Love—that silly word. I don’t think I know the meaning of it anymore. I thought you deserved my love.” She tutted condescendingly. “However, you’re quickly proving I might be wrong in the matter.”

My fists pounded to hit something.

How dare she give me something I held so highly, only to rip it away in our first fight.

I wanted to maul her in anger and desire.

A sick, twisted combination that would only lead us further into hell.

I was losing control.

I need to leave.

Pointing a trembling finger in her face, I snarled, “You’re the one messing this up.”

“Oh?” She smiled cavity sweet. “How exactly? How does my understanding and forgiveness screw up your already screwed-up existence?”

My brain misfired as I fought the sudden wash of acrimony. She was pure vexation. “You could stop believing in fairytales for one.”

“I haven’t believed in fairytales for a long time, Elder. I think you’re mistaking me for someone who hasn’t lived with evil. Who doesn’t know true darkness. And someone who isn’t afraid of a little greyness inside you when you’re trying to convince me it’s the end of the world.” She leaned toward me, baring white teeth. “Newsflash, it’s not.”

I almost lost it.

Almost.

It was the challenge and provocation on her face that tipped me off and kept me human rather than a monster.

She was trying to make me angry.

She was trying to make me to snap.

I stumbled backward. “I’m done listening to this.”

“Good.” She crossed her arms. If I wasn’t watching her so closely, I might’ve missed the tremor hidden beneath the airs and graces of indifference. “Leave, then.”

Retorts were hot on my tongue, but I swallowed them back like razor blades. I wouldn’t listen to her half-cocked theories anymore. And I wouldn’t play this game.

My voice thickened with gravel as I straightened, seeking some resemblance of calmness. “Stop thinking the flaws in my brain are something to be embraced rather than run from, Pim. Stop tempting me and making it seem as if I gave in and fucked you—if I shoved you against the wall and stopped fighting myself—that it wouldn’t be the end but only the beginning.”

I invaded her space, inhaling her soft fragrance, our noses close to touching. “It would be a beginning but not one either of us could survive.”

Her gaze glowed with fire. “El—”

“I put a lock on your door for a reason. Use it. If I come by in the night because of some misstep in judgment, I hope to fucking God you obeyed me and locked me out because if you don’t, Pim—if you don’t do this one thing for me, then whatever happens is on you. I carry too much guilt for things I’ve done to carry any more. Especially when I’ve done my best to prevent them.”

Raking a hand over my face, I backed into the corridor and bowed stiffly. “I know my limitations. I suggest you learn yours. Goodnight, Pimlico. It’s a pleasure to have you back on board. Don’t make me regret coming back for you.”

She clutched the door, her body calm despite my cruelty.

She looked me up and down slowly as if assessing me and finding me wanting. Finally, she sighed, pushing the door inch by inch to block me from her. “You say it’s a pleasure, yet you look at me like it’s a curse.” Angry tears glittered in her brilliant eyes. “You’ve been honest with me, so I’ll be honest with you. You came back for me, not out of gentlemanly behaviour or guilt, but because there was no other way for us. Whatever exists between us, Elder—it won’t allow separation—whether physical, emotional, or sexual. And until we either acknowledge that or agree to never see each other again, no locks can stop what will happen. No rules or negotiations will prevent it. I’ve accepted that…I wonder how long it will be until you do the same.”