Page 18 of Equilibrium
There were too many lies surrounding us, and until I dealt with the impending disaster, I was going to keep us both separated, at least physically.
Pulling one of my hands from her hair, I grasped her hip, kneading the soft flesh that got exposed in the middle of our little play. As if afraid of what I was going to do, she touched my face, her tiny hand grazing my cheek, then my lower lip. I bit on her thumb playfully, earning a soft glare from her, but she didn’t retreat.
She kept her hand there, letting me devour her in the way I knew how. The day I met her, it felt as if the missing piece of the puzzle fell into its place, and I’ve been missing her ever since. That kiss we shared sizzled my skin, leaving the scorch marks all over the place, and I wanted more.
But I wanted more than the physical connection. I wanted her to feel me skin deep, just like I did her. I wanted to bury myself inside her soul, to hold her, to cherish her, to keep the darkness at bay, because she kept mine.
“Storm.” Her lower lip trembled, her eyes filled with unshed tears, and the anger and the violence I felt just a minute ago vanished from my skin, leaving the need to protect her and to soothe her wounds.
There was nothing sexual in the way she looked at me now, but she still clung to me as if she too, couldn’t let go. The wall she had when I saw her back in the church dissipated, leaving behind a girl I wanted to see. Ophelia had so many broken pieces, that not even the years of healing would be able to put them all back together.
I knew because I was the same.
We were both products of this fucked-up world. A product of people that didn’t care enough about the kids they were supposed to protect. They were the ones that made us this way, and then they abandoned us, as if we meant nothing to them.
Everybody knew stories about Ophelia Aster, the bloodthirsty assassin made in the Syndicate. Everybody knew the stories of slaughtered children, destroyed families, and grown men shaking in fear from the mere mention of her name. But nobody knew about this girl, lying beneath my body, shaking because she was still human.
She bled, she loved, and she was betrayed.
I was so fucking angry at her for never showing up that I didn’t even stop to think about the reasons of why she didn’t. That cut on her cheek made me see red, but now wasn’t the time for me to go into a rage. She obviously needed somebody, some sort of comfort, even if she would never admit it.
The first tear escaped from her eye, leaving a wet trail on her cheek, but she didn’t notice it. She kept staring at me, as if she were memorizing my face again, just like that day on the cliff.
“Agape,” I whispered to her, unable to stop myself. One thing I learned from my deadbeat mother was that Greek word for love. On the days she was sober, she would call me heragape, her love. It was too bad it never lasted long.
I nuzzled my face against her cheek, the same one that hosted that violent cut. I pressed my lips against the marred skin and another tremor shook through her.
I held her tight, tighter than before. I’ve missed her my whole life not even knowing that I did.
“Shh,” I soothed her, stroking her hair, and leaving tiny little kisses on her cheek, on her chin, the corner of her mouth, her nose. “It’s going to be okay.”
People often failed to see the real person hiding behind the mask, and the one she wore, it was almost merged with her skin. I had a feeling that she didn’t know when to take it off anymore.
I started moving back, but her arms clamped around my neck, pulling me back again. She nestled her head in the crook of my neck, while her whole body shook with silent sobs. Ophelia held on to me with all her strength, and something cracked inside my chest.
This strong, powerful woman was breaking right in front of my eyes, and I didn’t know what to do. I wasn’t known for my affection, but she made me want to be better.
I pulled her up with me, cradling her head with my hand. She almost felt like a child in my arms, so tiny, so fragile. I knew what she was capable of, but in this moment, she was raw, she was showing me everything that was wrong. She didn’t have to talk for me to understand that the glass she’s been filling in, finally gotten too full, and everything she held inside had to spill.
For a moment I thought that Creed attacking her might have triggered something, but she defended him. I would’ve killed him then and there if it wasn’t for her voice calling me, rendering me still. She defended him and I knew that there was more to the story than I was aware of.
I stood up with her still in my arms and walked toward the adjacent bathroom. She stiffened with every new step I took, and I wasn’t sure if she was afraid I was going to drop her, or if she simply didn’t want to let go. Turning on the light, I closed the door behind us and stopped in front of the shower located in the corner of the bathroom.
“Baby,” I rasped. Her state of distress was unraveling me, and I hated seeing her like this. I hated it because there was nothing I could do. She squeezed me harder, a whimper escaping her lips.
“Phee,” I started again. “I need to remove your clothes, Sunshine. Can you stand?”
She shook her head, but she wasn’t the only one wanting to hold on for as long as possible. I didn’t want to let her go, but I knew that a fresh shower could do miracles even in situations like these.
“Ophelia, please.” My voice almost cracked. “Let’s wash you up and then we can talk some more.”
As if sensing that I wouldn’t let go even if she wasn’t clinging to me like a spider monkey, she slid down, wobbling on her feet. I kept my hands on her waist, searching her eyes for signs of distress, but she seemed cold, emotionless, and if it wasn’t for the wet trail over her cheeks, I would think that I’d imagined the last ten minutes.
I took the hem of her shirt, and like an obedient child, she lifted her arms, letting me remove it. Desire stirred in my groin, but now wasn’t the time to be aroused by the sight of her round breasts and tiny waist. She was too skinny, but the muscles on her flat stomach were still visible.
Motionless, she just stood there staring at my chest, refusing to meet my eyes. I would’ve missed it if I hadn’t been too busy staring at her form, but an angry red mark, a red burn mark, stood below her collarbone, a stark contrast to her pale skin. My hand skimmed around the skin, and the hissing sound that erupted from her chest almost drove me to my knees.
The snake wrapped around the dagger was forever etched into her skin, and I wanted to destroy the whole world for the pain they caused her. They fucking branded her like cattle.
