crave | 16+

XXXIV

JOSIE

I STEP INTO THE familiar warehouse with Elijah clinging to my side. His hand is on the small of my back, guiding me through the crowded place. If I'd overanalyzed the situation I'd almost say he's afraid to not be in physical contact with me, but with the last time we were here still lingering in the walls, I don't mind the contact his hand makes with the small of my back.

"It's just as I remember," I say, looking up at my...well, whatever the hell he is, trying to lighten the strained mood with flat humor, but Elijah doesn't seem to find it funny at all, as he tenses beside me. I mentally curse myself for my large mouth, as we make a left turn down a long corridor. I look around our surroundings, mapping everything out, and storing it somewhere in my brain. The brown doors are plated with gold signs that all read names.

My heart skips a beat when I read CAIN GARCIA, and next to his door it reads ZAKARIA CHRIST. I swallow my nerves, and allow Elijah to guide me further down the corridor until we stop at a door, with his name plated in gold. He pushes the door open, and I'm met with an office that matches the one at Christ Enterprises. The interior design of his office doesn't shock me, which seems to satisfy Elijah as he grins at me.

I shake my head, and walk around the desk before taking a seat on the chair he has. He stands still by the door opening, just watching me. I watch him back, with a challenging gaze not backing away. I earn a deeper grin.

"You're so beautiful," he takes me aback by saying. Caught off guard, I blush, breaking the eye-contact. "Such a pretty girl. My pretty girl."

I snort, rolling my eyes. I'm sure my face is so hot you could cook an egg on it. I find the courage to look back up at him. He holds my gaze: the color around his pupils causes me to drown in the softness they carry. "Is that all I am?" I shock myself, asking. He tilts his head, confused. "Yours?" I inquire.

"You're everything, Josephine. Whatever you want to call us, I'll agree." He walks closer to me, and stops between my legs. He manages to get me off the chair, sit in it himself, and place me atop of his lap. Nostalgia hits me like a truck. Suddenly we're back in his office. A soft smile plays on my lips. How noble of you to think I have honour to fulfill, Josephine. I shake the memory out of my head, returning to reality. I catch his eyes already on mine.

"I mean it, you know," he says. I tilt my head in question, asking him to elaborate. "When I say you're everything. To you, being mine probably seems like close to nothing, but to me, it's everything. I've always had to share everything, but with you, I can't get myself to do it, because you're the only one in my life who's seen the darkness I bring and not ran from it. The only one who sees me for me, and no one else," he says in such a small fragile voice. Tears dare prick my eyes, but I swallow them.

"Who else would I see you as?" I ask, my voice like soft feathers. I run a finger down the curve of his jaw, causing it to soften under the contact.

"My father," Elijah replies. I tense atop of him. My eyes find him, but he's averting my gaze. He's embarrassed. I grasp his face in my hands forcing his eyes on mine.

"You're not your father. You're you. You're kind, protective, soft and sweet. Your older brother once told me your love is so strong that I'd be seeing stars and pinching myself at least three times a day, to make sure this was real life. I thought he was speaking nonsense, first, but now? Now I think I owe him the chance to tell me 'told you so'. You're a good man, Elijah. You may not be perfect, but you're perfect to me. For me."

Silence reigns over us, until he cups my face back. He pulls it close to his own, resting our eyebrows on top of one another. I smile against him. "I love you," he admits. A breath escapes my mouth. The words sound like something I find myself getting addicted to.