“Try me.” And since when does she care about my opinion?
“White-haired characters are usually my favorites in mangas and anime. They have this intelligent, wise, and reserved aura that I always loved, so I went for it. Not going to lie, it’s a pain to maintain, but it’s worth it.”
“So you love characters like yourself?”
“I’m not intelligent and wise. Reserved, maybe.”
“You’re the smartest and wisest person I know. Except for when you’re being a pain in the ass.”
Red splashes her cheeks as silence pulses between us, heavy with our wild breathing. Neither of us breaks it for long minutes as I continue my task.
“Are you done?” she murmurs in a voice that I’m sure wasn’t supposed to come out so low, erotic, and with every attention of stroking my cock to life.
When I don’t answer, she glances at me. “I think it’s all dry.”
“Not yet.” I grab her chin and turn her attention forward so I can focus.
I go on until I feel her bubbling with that antagonistic energy. Only when I feel she’s about to act on it do I release her.
I throw the towel in the sink. “Follow me.”
She exhales an exasperated breath but marches behind me. “What’s with you and ordering me around?”
“How else will you do as I tell you?” I step to the living room that’s illuminated by the fire’s orange hue. After I carried her to the shower earlier, I lit the fireplace to warm the room.
Cecily observes her surroundings as if it’s the first time she’s been here, her feet padding along the wood floor. “I’d rather not be ordered around.”
“And I’d rather you do as I say.”
That glare, the one full of life and attitude, comes back, but it slowly disappears as she composes herself. “Can you give me some clothes? I want to go home.”
“Not yet.”
“What else do you want?” Despite her attempts to sound cool, her voice shakes at the end.
“It’s early.”
She points at the grandfather clock above the fireplace. “It’s midnight.”
“Which means early.”
“I have classes in the morning.”
“So do I, but you don’t see me whining about it.”
“I’m surprised you even study…” she mutters under her breath, then trails off when she spots her phone and keys on the small coffee table.
Still holding her towel with a death grip, as if that would stop me, she sits on the sofa, legs tucked underneath her, and checks her phone.
Then she listens to a voice message from an obviously drunk Ava.
“Cecy!! I can’t believe you left me…alone, you little bitch. But, like, a pretty bitch. Come back, Cecy… If you’re asleep, I’m gonna wake you up, uh-huh. Also! I bought one of those small packets of M&M’s like the ones Aunt Kim gave us when we were kids. I saved you some, but if you’re not here, I’ll eat them all. I hate it when I’m craving chocolate… Glyn says it’s because I’m sad, but I’m not. Right, Cecy?”
There’s a commotion on the other end before Glyndon’s voice calls in the background. “Ava! Jesus, what the hell are you doing standing in the middle of the road? It’s dangerous!”
“I’m manifesting Cecy. Let’s do it together, Glyn!”
“We should probably go back to the dorm.”
“Nooo—”
And then the voice message is cut off. Cecily releases a long breath and mutters, “This child, I swear.”
I soundlessly slide behind the sofa as she types something—a reply to her friend’s message in a group chat called ‘Foursome.’
After Ava’s VM, there’s a text from none other than my sister.
Annika: It looks like you guys had so much fun. I’m definitely NOT jealous while I sit in my ivory tower.
I narrow my eyes, but I continue reading.
Glyndon: It wasn’t that much fun. Eli showed up and Ava went off, and yeah, it was a disaster.
Ava:In this house, we don’t speak of He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named.
Glyndon:@Cecily Knight I wish you had been there to calm her down. You’re the only one who knows how. She wouldn’t stop drinking and playing her cello and crying. I think she’s going to sleep now, though. Where are you, anyway?
Cecily’s expression is aimed downward as she types her reply with fast, elegant fingers.
Cecily: Group study. I’ll be late. Please check on Ava @Glyndon King. Put a bucket by her bed and give her a painkiller. Also, wipe her forehead with a cold towel and make sure her alarm is set. You should go to sleep, too, Glyn, it’s late. Didn’t you say you have an important class tomorrow morning?
Glyndon: Yes, Mum! *salute emoji*
Cecily releases a long breath and I lean over, causing it to get caught before being fully expelled.
“So I’m a group study now?”
She slaps her phone to her chest and slowly glances at me like a character from a horror movie. “Is the concept of privacy foreign to you?”
“Possibly.”
She puffs out an exasperated breath. “I have to go back and check on my friends.”
“They’re adults, and unlike what Glyndon said, you’re not their mother.” I round the sofa and sit beside her.
Cecily scoots up and glues herself to the edge, trying and failing to put some distance between us. I can feel the warmth radiating off her and the hot energy that mirrors mine.
“Don’t,” I grind out.
“W-what?”
“Your nervous energy turns me on, so unless you’re up for riding my cock, tone it down.”
Her ears redden again and she rubs the side of her nose. “What makes you think I’m nervous? Maybe I’m disgusted.”
I know this aggressiveness is a reply to how much coercion I put her through, and usually, I don’t rise to provocations. But then again, my system has never been the same since she came into the picture.
I reach a hand out and she flinches, but I’ve already grabbed her hair and slid her across the old leather sofa that creaks underneath her weight.
Cecily’s eyes widen as I glare down at her. “You seem to have a misconception about certain terms. Should I give you a real reason to be disgusted?”
She purses her lips.
“Answer the fucking question, Cecily. Should I?”
“No.”
“That’s right. No. Don’t ask for something you can’t handle.” I release her for the sole reason that touching her, having her shiver against me, is enough to make me want to fuck her.
And I actually don’t want to hurt her when she must be sore.
Cecily clutches her towel so tight that her knuckles whiten, then she rushes back to sit against the other end of the sofa.
The sound of the burning logs fills the living room and mixes with her quickening breaths before she releases a sigh.
“And what am I supposed to do now? Drown in your broody, emotionless company?”
“Here’s what you’re not supposed to do. Sarcasm. Didn’t I tell you to drop it? If I repeat myself again, it won’t be with words.”
Silence, fidgeting, and more silence. Then she abruptly stands up. “I’m going to look for some clothes.”
“You look fine the way you are.”
“I’m sure you’d think that,” she starts to mock, but then clears her throat. “Do you have to rip my clothes?”
“No, but it’s more thrilling when I do.”
“Wow. Okay. That was direct.”
“I’m nothing less than direct.”
A weird expression covers her features, almost like resignation, or understanding.
Or maybe I’m imagining both.
“I can see that,” she says with revering calm. “But you’re not impulsive or reckless, so why did you make us play that game earlier? It’s out of character for you to put your life in danger. You don’t seem suicidal.”
“I’m not.”
“What if one of us died?”
“We wouldn’t have. I removed the bullet before you started.”
Her lips part and she stares at me as if I’m Lucifer himself. “You…you…”
“No rush. Take your time in finding the words.”
“I really thought I was going to die!”
“Which made you more honest. Aren’t you glad I was creative to find a way to make you open up?”
“Screw you,” she mutters, then trudges to the stairs and disappears at the top.
She must’ve taken a discovery tour around here the last time. I’m not worried that she’ll escape since the balconies and windows are high.
I remove my jacket, throw it on a nearby chair, and text back and forth with Ilya about security details.
Preferably, this should’ve been done in person, and I should’ve also plotted to inflict more damage on the Serpents. But the thought of leaving this place to do all of those chores holds no appeal.
No, not this place. Someone in this place.
“Why…do you have these?”
I lift my head from my phone to stare at Cecily. She’s wearing a pair of jeans and a black tee that molds against her tits.
The items in question are a few mangas she probably found on the nightstand. Even as she holds them, her hands aren’t completely steady.
I raise a brow. “Don’t you love reading about boys’ love? I did some research and that’s apparently a thing a lot of women do. Reading and watching gay men material.”
Her face turns a deep shade of crimson. “So what? We’re not hurting anyone by cheering on gay men to get together. I won’t allow you to shame me.”
It takes everything in me not to smile at the spikiness in her voice or how she hugs the mangas as if protecting them from me.
“Who says I’m shaming you?”
Her defensive stance turns into that of careful bemusement. “You’re…not?”
“Why would I buy you those if I were?”
She narrows her eyes. “Why did you buy these, anyway?”
“So you can read them here.”