Wicked Obsession

39.

Tuesday, August 6

"You're so dark..." I murmur, stroking his stubbled cheek with my body propped up on his chest.

I avoid his gaze though. I'm just... not ready to look into those jade eyes and remember all of the horrible things that are buried beneath them. When I told Harry to take my soul, I had no idea what that really meant but now that I do...

He will never do that to me again.

I couldn't take it.

The pain itself was excruciating but it was what happened afterward that terrified me. Everything was cold. There is no happiness in Harry's heart, no light or specks of hope. Just blackness that has managed to weave itself into his system like a cancer, ever growing and ever changing to adapt to new environments. The only difference is, unlike cancer, the darkness was contagious and it felt as if I was suffocating.

"I know." He says neutrally but his fingers start to absentmindedly stroke my hair and it soothes me a little.

A long finger presses the bottom of my chin upward, trying to force me to meet his eyes but I resist. A heavy sigh escapes his lips and I start to trace the tattoos on his chest.

"Please look at me." He pleads and it kills me to hear him so distraught. I shake my head though, smiling sadly down at the swallows on his collar bones.

"I can't. I just... I need time— to process this."

"What is there to process?" His voice is harder now, hurt by my refusal.

"I don't know, how about the fact that you're a fucked-up asshole," I snap and flick the "g" on his shoulder. He says nothing but his chest is rising and falling faster, his breathing calculated and controlled. 

Do I really want to fight with him right now? 

No. 

Absolutely not. There has been too much fighting the past few days... Changing the subject, I ask him something that has been eating at me.

"How could you take my soul, knowing what I would see?"

The heat of his glare seers into my forehead but I keep my eyes fixed on the curves of his muscular chest. Cowardly, I know... but it's easier to face him this way. His eye disarm me and at the moment, terrify me. The silent fury radiating around him is my answer, because I forced him to. I used his greatest weakness against him— me. Harry has proven that he will do anything for me and when he isn't willing, I've learned how to manipulate him. And every time I do, it pisses him off more and more.

"I have never pretended to be anything else." His deep tone vibrates his chest and slams the tension into my racing heart. "I warned you from the beginning that this is who I am." His thumb and forefinger grip my chin, forcing me to look at his handsome face that is contorted in passionate fury. "I am a fucked up asshole. I know— I've told you, I know. The only thing that is uncertain is what you intend to do about it." The strain of his stubbled jaw and the ferocity behind his jade eyes, forces the air from my lungs and the blood in my veins freezes. 

What am I going to do about it? 

What is there to do? 

I can't be without him. 

If I've learned anything from all of this, it's that I need Harry on a deeper level. It's as if a string connects us, somewhere between my heart and soul. It binds us. It makes me feel secure and sane— to break it would be unbearable.

Harry loves me.

The darkness in his heart sensed my fear and somehow split, welcoming me with warmth that soothed and lulled in my ear. Shhhh, it whispered. I am here. Do you think I would ever harm you? Let anything happen to you? It pacified me and I returned its embrace. After that there was no more evil to be seen or heard or felt. Only silence that carried me away as if I was floating down a river on a hot day, until an invisible forced slammed into me and stole the breath from my lungs. I panicked— then I heard his voice and saw his handsome face staring down at me. It felt like I had woken up from some horrible dream but the moment I met those emerald eyes, it all came crashing back.