Page 66 of His Dark Cravings

I set my bag down, my fingers trembling. "Xavier—are you okay?"

He pauses, his brow furrowing in confusion. "Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Winter and Sable left," I remind him, my voice tight with emotion.

His expression turns thoughtful. "Yes, they did. It was time for them to go."

"But you're not... upset?" I press, searching his face for cracks in his calm façade.

He shrugs, a small smile tugging at his lips. "It was bound to happen. They needed to move on."

I step closer, driven by a need to bridge the gap between us. "But you're not okay, are you?"

He meets my gaze, his eyes steady. "I'm fine, Everly."

He moves closer, his hands framing my face, his touch warm and grounding. "Why? Are you leaving?" he asks, his voice low.

The question startles me. "Of course not," I reply swiftly.

He studies me for a moment, his gaze piercing. Then he nods, a small smile forming. "Then everything is fine."

It is?

"But why?" I sputter, so confused.

Xavier’s hands settle on my shoulders. I look up at him, trying to read the expression in his eyes. The warmth of the room seems to press in around us, heavy and intimate, as he studies me.

“Everly,” he begins, “there’s something I need to tell you.”

My heart pounds out a rhythm that feels too fast.

He takes a breath, his eyes never leaving mine. “I’ve been thinking... for a while now. About the dolls, about this life I’ve built—”

I frown, my mind racing. “What about them?”

He steps closer, the space between us shrinking until I can feel the heat of his body. “I don’t want to keep collecting them,” he admits softly. “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

The words hit me like a wave, leaving me breathless. “Why?”

“Because of you,” he says, his tone steady but laced with a vulnerability that makes my chest ache. “Every moment with you, every time you let me in, it’s... different. I don’t need them, Everly. I don’t need anyone else. Just you.”

My stomach flips at the admission, a mix of emotions swirling inside me. Relief, excitement, and a terrifying sense of responsibility all tangle together until I can’t untangle one from the other.

“You’re saying you want to stop?” I ask, my voice small.

He nods, his jaw tight, as if the words cost him something. “I’ve already stopped. This life, these dynamics—it’s not what I want anymore. I don’t want to share you, Everly. I don’t want to share myself.”

I blink, the room around us blurring as tears well in my eyes. “So... what do you want?”

His hands cradle my face, his thumbs brushing away the first tears that spill over. “I want you,” he says, his voice raw. “Just you. No games, no dolls, no complicated rules. I want you, Everly. All of you. Every part of you.”

The words crash over me like a tidal wave, sweeping me under with their weight. Nothing could have prepared me for the reality of this, for the vulnerability shining in his eyes, for the honesty in his voice.

“And what does that mean?” I ask, my voice breaking as I search his face for answers.

He leans in, his breath grazing my lips. “It means I want you to be my girlfriend,” he whispers, the words softer than I’ve ever heard him speak before. “I want to wake up with you in the mornings and fall asleep with you at night. I want to be the one you turn to, the one you trust. I want to be yours. Will you be mine?”

I feel the dam inside me break then, the tears spilling over as the weight of everything—his words, my fears, my hopes—comes crashing down. I’m crying, sobbing, as I nod, the movement jerky and uncontrolled.

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