𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐦𝐞 | ✔

sɪxᴛʏ ᴇɪɢʜᴛ

thank you for the love on the new cover!! and your amazing patience<3 also remember when grisha told devi he'd take off her socks the next time they fvck?

without further adieu, I present to you the next chapter...

༼ つ ◕_◕ ༽つ

DEVI BHATT

Back in the Range Rover, I have the window open as we drive home.

Grisha's eyes are alive and his body is thrumming with energy even though it's way past twelve o'clock in the night. Meanwhile, I'm opening my mouth yawn after yawn, trying to stay awake with him. It would be dangerous to fall asleep while he's driving in case I have another bad dream. It'd be cataclysmic.

I poke my head out of the window, feeling the cold wind blow over my features and pinch at my skin, causing me to wake up a little bit.

Sitting back against my seat, I glance over at him.

My gaze falls on the outline of his face, it's rough and sharp with the gentle glow of moonlight casting across his features. The hood of his jumper has fallen off his head from the wind blowing through the window. His hand is an upside-down spider on my lap, which I slowly interlace my fingers with as I continue staring at him.

A yawn comes out of my mouth again.

I try to ground myself– keep myself in the present like how I did before and not focus on what the future holds. April sixth is in seven days. I feel like my time with him is running out even though it's just begun. Like someone set a time before I ever knew.

"O chem ty dumayesh'?" Grisha murmurs. (What are you thinking about?)

Always worrying. I don't want him to worry constantly.

"April sixth," I answer softly. "Treaty day." More like doomsday.

"It's going to be fine," he assures. "You're going to be protected at the house with Feliks–"

I frown. "At the house? I'm not staying at the house, I'm coming with you. I don't want to stay at the house."

His posture stiffens. "It'll be safe, baby," he says. "Safer."

"I don't want you to coddle me," I say. "I know it's going to be dangerous– I've done dangerous before and I'm still here in flesh. Dangerous is my normal."

"I know, baby, I know," he says, "but I want to protect you, not put you in the way of danger."

"But who's going to protect you?"

His lips twitch. "I don't need protection but I won't be responsible for my actions they get close to hurting you again Devi."

"I can manage it," I argue.

"I don't want you to manage it," he says, his voice tight, "You shouldn't have to manage it."

"Well I don't have a choice," I sigh. "I like how you treat me like I'm normal. Not like I'm some damaged fragile thing."

"You are far from damaged, Devi," he says, eyes fixed on the road as his rough thumb rubs my hand.

Is it burdening to put up with my countless insecurities? I can't stand it. To be so unsure of myself, I need reassurance that it's okay to breathe each breath I breathe. And I can't stand these thoughts– how they interfere with my life, in every breathing moment, they're there, ready to drag me deeper under the waves of my predatorial mind.

Is it possible to be the prey to your own predator? I'm the prey and predator– my mind attacks, and my mind is also the thing that takes the brute force of it. And the scratch marks are deepening.