ᴀᴘʜʀᴏᴅɪᴛᴇ // $ᴜɪᴄɪᴅᴇʙᴏʏ$

Chapter Thirty Seven

APHRODITE

My feet were starting to ache from the walking to Mason's apartment tonight and now the walking from my car to Scott's room. The suitcase I brought with me made my shoulders ache. But regardless of all that, I pushed forward because I knew where I wanted to be and I was almost there.

The fingers of my right hand were starting to feel sore from hitting Mason in the face hard enough to make him bleed. I knew the knuckles were a tad bit swollen and red, the feeling of actually punching someone completely foreign to my body, but I didn't care. I would deal with such trivialities when the rush within me eased. But it was at full force right now, and all I could see was my final destination. I didn't even wonder why I wasn't being stopped by Summit and Jerry; didn't even register if one of them had said something to me. They were completely invisible as I walked on, my eyes straying nowhere but the path ahead of me, the only sound I seemed to hear was the rolling wheels of the suitcase I still pulled. And even when I saw that entrance that separated me from what I needed to see, I continued on. I rushed through and dropped the handle of my suitcase in his makeshift bedroom.

I took two steps, stopped, and stared.

I found Scott sitting on a chair a few feet away from me, his back to me, somewhat hunched as he ate something in front of him. I knew he was aware of my presence. He always knew everything for some reason. And while I had rehearsed the words I would say to him once I arrived, I found that the words had vanished when I entered his room and saw him after only five days.

I stared at his back, shirtless and covered in tattoos, the scar from one of his injuries just above the right side of his rib cage travelling along his skin visible in the dim light of the room. I had seen his bare upper body countless times in the past, had always hated how nervous and insecure I would feel while in his presence at the time. But right now I didn't feel that way at all. Right now, I could only look and admire. My stomach twisted inside my body, my fingertips started to sizzle. I found that I wasn't ignoring those effects on my body like I normally would. I was free now. I had realized truths about myself. I had accepted them and embraced them.

And it wasn't going to simply stop with Mason.

I continued to let my eyes travel along his skin without the past hesitation. Too much had happened tonight to make me question my motives.

Scott was the one to speak first, his deep voice sending soft shivers down my spine from the depravation of it. "Freedom wasn't good enough for you?" He asked me, keeping his eyes down at his food, his back still turned to me.

I didn't know how I should answer that, so I didn't. Instead, I slowly began walking forward, the click of my boots the only sound in the room. Scott didn't move as I slowly approached him, didn't even flinch when my fingertips on one hand connected with his skin. I started on the back of his neck, and slowly trailed my fingertips down, my eyes watching the paths of my fingers intently. Scott continued to remain still, continued to remain silent as I touched his spine, all the way down until I met the hem of his jeans. My mind seemed clouded. I only wanted to touch him, hadn't been able to touch him this way because I had always stopped myself from doing so. My fingers slowly worked their way back up his spine, only to begin the path again and touch the other scars along his back.

His skin was so hot, so warm against my own cold hands. I ran my hands along the back of his ribs and then up to his shoulders and onto his arms, feeling the slight muscles there. How could I have never touched him like that before? How could I know that his body was something I'd been craving to feel without any kind of hesitation or insecurity? I stepped closer to his back, set my palms on his solid shoulders. I leaned forward and rested my forehead on the back of his head.