𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐪𝐮𝐞 | machine gun kelly

74

A/N:

i recently changed chapter numberings to make it easy for readers to navigate. I get that it gets weird having two chapters with same numbers, despite the act division. Anyway, this is a 7.1K word chapter by the way, so strap in i guess<3 love you all. thankyou for being heree. 

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"DID YOU LIKE THE FLOWERS, BABY?"

His voice was low, and in full control. He sounded like he did often times when he'd come up behind me, speak into my ears. He sounded like he did whenever he was near me, whenever I knew that he wanted me and he didn't have to say it.

"Don't hang up on me, Davina," He blurted out then, "I've been trying you for a fuck load of hours and nights for you to just hang up on me on a damn burner phone right now."

My eyes dropped to the white roses that I held against my chest, their beautiful scent calming my panicked heart gently as I held my phone to my ear, breathing in and out slowly to gather my bearings. I wanted to hang up, but my heart was numbing my movements. It was reminding me that I missed him—that my name between his teeth and on his tongue would forever remain my obsession.

"Say something, baby, don't fucking do this to me."

It was then that he sounded like he was trying to control himself—like he would never put himself on a leash in any other situation but this one. Like he was only taming himself for me and it was costing him his strength.

"Did you like the flowers? Because if you didn't, I'll have those motherfuckers lay every other kind they have, at your feet one by one until you're satisfied."

"I love the flowers," I spoke then, clutching the bouquet tighter against my chest, taking every bit of comfort I could from it.

After all, these flowers were blameless. They had been grown with adoration and compassion by someone and were meant to be symbols of love and expression. They weren't meant to be stuck here in between me and Colson, grappling with being the symbols of whatever it was that he and I shared.

"I've never received white roses before, these are so beautiful."

"Like you," He let out then, "They are blemish less—close to perfect. I wanted them to represent you—I wanted them to be pure and blemish less like you are."

"I'm not blemish less," I shook my head, my voice soft, the word sounding atrocious uttered in the same sentence as my name.

"I'm not pure or close to perfect-I'm not anything that you—"

"You're all that and more, Davina," Colson broke in. "Do you fucking understand me? Everything else is just me. Every doubt you have is just me. I'm the goddamned hard edges and poison beside your perfect frame. It's all me."

I didn't answer, swallowing thickly as my eyes stung a little.

"Your injury, baby, how is it?"

"It's fine," I let out. "The bandages are long off, I only just have a scar."

"Fuck," He exhaled, his breath crackling against the speaker. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't," I shut my eyes tight.

"I'm so fucking sorry," He insisted, his voice tighter. "I'm still trying to get Hernandez—I'm so close to luring him—"

"Is that supposed to erase everything that happened that night? Everything they made me do because of you?"

"It can't erase that shit, I know," Colson's voice was low, defeated before hope gripped his tone again. "But it's supposed to make you feel better. Everything I'm doing—fuck, baby, it was only all supposed to make you feel better."