Axel

19

I'm now laying on Axel's lap while he plays with my very frizzy and untamed hair and we are actually having a conversation.

No arguing! An actual conversation with no bickering and actual words and laughs and smiles and yeah, you get the point.

I feel like he's mentally judging my stupidity. But at least he isn't saying anything about it.

"So why did you move away from San Diego?" I ask, fiddling with the rings on his fingers.

He immediately stiffens and I look up at him.
He doesn't want to tell me but he doesn't want to bitch out on me again.

I smile at the small improvement. "Relax. You don't have to tell me, Delilah," I say softly, going back to play with his rings.

"I did certain things I'm not proud of and shit....changed," he says gruffly but quietly, like he's trying to reassure himself.

Piece of the truth.

You would know since you're a professional liar right, Astrid?

"What time are you scheduled for?"

A thin line appeared between his brows. "Hm?" He asks, his left hand still raking through my hair.

"Therapy," I deadpan.

"It's at 2:30 but I'm not going."

I lift my head from his lap to sit up but he fists my hair and pulls me back down.

Kinky bastard.

"Why not?" I ask, trying to soothe my throbbing scalp.

"Because it's a waste of time and Santon's a bitch," he grumbles, massaging my hair for me.

He's good with his hands.
Holy thoughts, Astrid.

"Your therapist's name is Santon?" I ask with my eyes closed.

"Mhm," he hums, still massaging my hair. I think he's doing it to distract himself but I'm not complaining.

"Do you want to tell me why you go?" I ask him.

"No," he says quietly. "Not today, Amora."

"Am I asking too many questions?" I ask him, opening my eyes to look at him.

He looks down at me—with his stupidly, gorgeous green eyes— and I swear he's smiling but I can't tell. "Yes."

"Want to go to buy snacks with me?" I interlock my fingers with his.