I gulped, feeling the words unsaid clumping in the back of my throat. I could've choked on the sharp edges and lines of the letters I swallowed down, all in an effort to not say the words that really floated through my mind. "Claude . . ."
"I'm not going to ask you to commit to forever, Bea," Claude continued. "I mean, I've only known you for a couple days. But, please, commit to now. Commit to whatever the fuck is happening between us. Commit."
He stepped closer to me. It didn't matter that he smelled faintly of vomit and his hair gleamed with grease because if I was an artist, I would've wanted to paint his expression to immortalize the real art that stood in front of me. So that people could see and admire the soft winter light on his cheekbones and the slanted lines of his brows, and those eyes. Really, you could spend a thousand years trying to get the color right, and never get anywhere close. No, that's not correct. His eyes were the color of the sky and Claude Martin made me feel like I was flying. And for the first time in my life, I didn't know if that was such a bad thing.
YOU ARE READING
When Time Ran Crooked
Teen Fiction❝If it makes me sadistic to laugh at his fear, then book me into the asylum and call me a psychopath, because I'm in this for the long haul.❞ Bea Harvey just wanted to get home in time for the holidays. Despite breaking down in a room full of people...
