The Green Eyed Monster

Ch. 35

Cat's lips taste like strawberries, soft and sweet, and I run my tongue over them, dip it into her mouth, lap at her like she's cold ice cream on a hot day, but it's the wrong way around. I'm cold and she's warm, so warm, burning my palms where they're pressed to her skin, slid under her shirt. I'm kissing her like she's the only thing that's keeping me alive, like she's oxygen and I've been holding my breath for too long, and I'm gulping her in, and she's diffusing in my veins, in every cell.

I'm kissing her harder and harder, a moan rolling out of my mouth, muffled by our crushed lips, my hand tightening roughly on Cat's waist, on her breast, nails digging into the soft, hot flesh, marring the tanned skin with little furrows. And Cat's pushing me away, gasping for air. I'm not oxygen for her, she doesn't need me to breathe. I'm stopping her from breathing, from living, and it's not fair. She should need me; I need her. "What's wrong? What's the matter?" My voice is rough, ragged, impatient. The taste of strawberries is fading.

Cat's chocolate eyes are wide, scared, her lips flushed and trembling. "You're hurting me."

I look down at my hands, confused, and they're flexed into her flesh, knuckles strained white, clawing into her like I'm digging for something, like I want to see her bones. I'm not letting her go. "I can't let go."

"Jade, you're a monster."

My eyes narrow, Cat's voice soft, so quiet I didn't even see her lips move, didn't even hear the words cut through the air. Just there, in my head, buzzing around, crawling into my honeycomb of a brain. "I can't let you go. I love you." I'm trying to make her understand. I can't. I can't do it, and my voice is deep, more of a growl, teeth grinding together, fingers digging in tighter, flesh yielding under my sharp nails. I kiss her again, Cat squirming against me, gasping, writhing, my teeth pinning her lower lip, stopping her short, the taste of strawberries flooding my mouth in a hot spurt, Cat's sob ringing in my ears.

"Why are you lying? Why did you have to lie?"

I wake up with a grunt, fingers twisting in Beck's sheets, nails hurting from where they're dug in. I'm almost rolled off his bed, face pressed into a navy blue pillow, hair in twisted strands over my face. I sniff, pressing a lock to my nose. Strawberries. Of course. I sit up groggily, muscles aching from the uncomfortable position I curled myself into while I slept. It was just a dream. Of course it was. Cat's gone.

"Hey sleepyhead." I look up, automatically glaring. It's too bright, even in here. Beck grins easily at me, light touching the planes of his face, his cheek, turning his skin pale wherever it strokes. It makes him look so clean cut, so pure. It makes him look cold. It used to make Cat glow, like the light was shining from inside her, like she was the morning, and the sun outside was just imitating her out of spite, out of jealousy. She blinded me, she blinded me for so long it took me forever just to see her, but once I did, I couldn't look away.

Watching Beauty and the Beast last night... my eyes were glued to the television, to the flickering, animated images, but it wasn't the movie I was seeing. I was seeing all the time I spent with Cat, all the times I kissed her, all the times I held her, all the times my heart twisted when tears rolled down her face, carving salty paths and dripping off her chin, and I wanted to catch them, to give them back to her and say "Stop, please stop, I'm here.".

I didn't make it to the end. I never saw Belle return to Beast, I never saw the happy ending.

"How'd you sleep?" He sits beside me gracefully, his lanky form folding up, knee touching mine. I glance down at it, pulling away a little, hand rubbing my eyes.

"Not well." I rub my fingertips together, fingers smudged with black from my eyeliner, ridges of my fingerprints coloured in, like I'm some criminal waiting to get booked. I glance back up at Beck. "Bad dreams."