Playing Games

Chapter 42

SAVANNAH POV

The funeral is today.

Half of me was wanting to go for some strange reason, but the sensible half would've kicked in and told me not to go. I have no business going there anyway, and I know that Brendan would disapprove of me going to mourn someone who gave me pain.

I wouldn't want him to be disappointed in me, and I'm trying my hardest to make sure that I don't slip up and ruin our chances like thousands of times before.

I'm trying to make up for my behavior towards him by showing him that I really care about him. For the past few days, he's been staying at my place, not because he doesn't have one of his own, but because I want him to be here.

I enjoy his company. I enjoy waking up with his arms wrapped tightly around me. I enjoy watching him attempt to make breakfast and overcook something in the process. I enjoy arguing over what channel to watch with him.

I just enjoy him. So much that it almost hurts.

I feel exactly how Alex feels. This fire is growing as the days past, spreading rapidly through my bloodstream, and I don't ever want to put this fire out. I'll let it burn.

It'll burn brightly, the temperature will be so scorching hot that just a simple kiss or touch will make my skin burn and flake away due to the damage. That is what so many people said would be bad for me, but this feels extremely good.

I like to be burned by him.

I'm taken away from my thoughts when the overwhelmingly loud sound of an airplane passes the apartment, leaving an intense ringing sound in my ears.

I'm watching my cat wander around the apartment aimlessly, and I'm staring at her intently because I still can't find the perfect name to give her.

She loves snuggling, and I found that out recently. If I put her into a different room so that I don't have any interruptions when I'm with Brendan, she'll instantly come and snuggle with me later on to make up for the cuddling time she lost. She also loves to follow either me or Brendan around if she isn't occupied with anything else.

It's adorable.

She's still very little even though I've been feeding her as much as possible so that I can add some weight to her tiny little body. Eventually, I'll have to end up taking her to the vet if this problem doesn't resolve itself.

Suddenly, I feel large hands dig into my sides, tickling me, and I let out a scream before turning around to see Brendan behind me, laughing at my reaction. I playfully punch him in the ribs, and he acts like he's been hurt.

I place a hand over my heart, and the beat of it is unsteady now that Brendan scared the life out of me. I've always hated being tickled since I was little, and even though I still laugh, eventually I end up hurting the person tickling me.

I remember when I was little, and my cousins were playing in the living room while all of the adults were outside on the backyard deck discussing adult topics that we were too young to understand due to the complexity of the subject or it was too inappropriate for our innocent ears.

As we were wrecking havoc inside, my cousin Layla began tickling me and she eventually ended up getting kicked in the face by me because the tickling sensation became too much for me to bear, and she had blood streaming down her face. I remember feeling extremely terrible for hurting her, and how for the rest of that family function she'd run away from me.

My smile forms briefly because Brendan instantly brought back a memory from almost fourteen years ago. He really does bring out all of my best qualities. I remember just how quickly I jumped to conclusions, and how my pettiness and immaturity was through the roof because of Logan.