Page 70 of Oblivion
“It’s okay, Sunshine,” I murmured against her hair. “You’re safe. You’re okay.”
“Please!” she yelled out, thrashing against me. “Don’t. Please, please, please…”
Fuck, I wanted to help her, but I didn’t know how. I wanted to give her comfort, but I wasn’t the man who knew when to say the right words. I didn’t know how to deal with this.
“I’m here, Phee. I’m here,” I mumbled, hoping she would hear me. “You’re okay.”
“Please, don’t hurt him. No, no, no, no!”
“Dammit,” I groaned. I looked down at her face, illuminated by the lamp standing on the bedside table, my heart constricting at the sight of the tears cascading down her face.
“Phee.” I shook her gently. “Hey. Wake up, darling.”
“It’s my fault. It’s my fault,” she kept mumbling. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Storm.”
Fuck, she was dreaming about me.
I didn’t want to spook her or trigger her even more, so I took her hand in mine and pulled it to my lips. “I’m sorry, darling,” I murmured, kissing her hand. “It’s gonna be okay. You’re going to be okay. Just, wake up. Wake up, Sunshine.”
Her chest rose and fell, her breathing erratic and I was powerless to stop the nightmare from happening. I was powerless to do anything.
Her eyes suddenly flew open, frantically looking around the room until they landed on me. As if I’d burned her with my presence, she pulled herself up, pressing her back to the headboard, getting away from me.
Again.
The anger from before surged back, coming to the surface, licking my skin with its poisonous little tongue, but I couldn’t stop it. God, she infuriated me. She pissed me off more than any other person, and I needed to figure out if I could keep loving her and going on like this.
Her words from the hospital rang in my head, but what was love if you wouldn’t show the other person in actions what you really meant.
“W-what,” she stammered. “Where am I?” she asked, looking at me.
Beads of sweat clung to her skin, and she clutched that sheet as if it could protect her from me. I’d removed her pants earlier, her legs naked in front of me.
“Storm?”
“What?”
“What am I doing here?” she asked again, narrowing her eyes at me.
Her defiance knew no bounds, but right now, she should be begging me for mercy instead of sitting here, fresh from the nightmare, demanding things.
She should have been begging me to spare her and that dog of hers that tried to tear Indigo’s arm off as soon as he woke up, but no. She was the same as ever, the ice queen, the emotionless, manipulative woman I'd gotten to know.
I moved away from her, needing some space.
“Storm,” she said again and I could hear the sheets rustling. “Why am I here?”
“I don’t fucking know!” I thundered, turning toward her. She looked stoic, cold, untouchable, while my insides fell apart at the mere sight of her. “I wish I could forgive you, but I can’t.”
“I didn’t ask for your forgiveness,” she said. “So I am going to ask you again.” She moved closer to the edge of the bed, sitting on her knees. “Why am I here?”
Red. She made me see fucking red, and within seconds, I was right in front of her, pulling her head back, holding her hair in an unforgiving grip.
“Because I can’t let you go.” I bit down on her lower lip. “Even when I hate you. Even when I can’t stand to be in the same room with you, because you make me bleed.” I pressed my hand to my chest. “You make my heart bleed, but I can’t fucking let you go.”
“Then hurt me,” she whispered, looking up into my eyes. “Show me how much it hurts. Show me how much I fucked up.”
“You have no idea what you’re asking for,” I mumbled against her lips. “No idea, Persephone.”
