Page 85 of Unravelling: Aria & Crispin
Dorian was silent but he was listening.
"I thought at first," Crispin continued with a secret smile, "that she only wanted my body. Honestly, it was refreshing. Not to be wanted for what I could give, materially. For once, I was just...enough." His voice cracked slightly on the last word.
"She is the least judgemental person I know. She looked at me like I was a person, not a project or a target. Even when I was shit to her, she never hit back."
Dorian scratched his jaw, digesting the confession as if Crispin spoke a strange language.
Then he gave a soft snort. "Yeah, no thanks. I'll stick to my situationships. No soul-baring, no heartbreak, no stalker-level googling. And why choose one, really? Rotation keeps things fresh."
Crispin let out a hollow laugh. "You're an idiot."
"An idiot who eats, sleeps, and doesn't cry over women at four a.m.," Dorian said, hand reaching to turn the music back up. "Come on, Romeo. Let's get you to Oxford before you start writing sonnets."
Crispin had thought that once they found the address, things would start getting better.
They did not.
They parked discreetly across the street, waiting. The afternoon stretched into early evening and still, there was no sign of her. The building was modest, an old terrace split into flats, ivy creeping along the stone, a cracked intercom hanging beside the door.
Then, finally Lule came around the corner, carrying a cloth tote and a paper bag, her dark braid swinging behind her. The moment she saw them approach, she stopped mid-stride. Her eyes narrowed and her nostrils flared. Her face turned crimson as recognition set in.
"Maybe you should go first," Dorian muttered warily, already slowing his steps.
Crispin moved forward.
Lule hesitated just a breath, spun on her heel, and began walking the other way at a furious pace.
"Lule... Lule, please," Crispin called out.
She turned so suddenly that Crispin nearly walked into her. Her fury made him take a step back.
"Oh, so you do know my name?" she snapped. "How fascinating. I didn't think I existed in your precious little world."
"I-"
"We've never met, have we?" Her voice was sharp, brittle with sarcasm. "Three years of you fucking my sister, and not once did you bother. Not for a coffee, not for a hello. Not even a 'hi, I'm the asshole who keeps breaking her heart.'"
"Don't talk about your sister like that-"
"Like what?" Lule shot back, stepping towards him, practically rolling up her sleeves. "Like a woman who deserved better than to be treated like a disposable fucktoy? Like she was gum you chewed up and spat out when the flavour faded?"
Crispin opened his mouth, tried to speak but no words came.
"I need to talk to her," he said finally, voice not quite steady.
Lule laughed-one of those dry, humourless laughs that made the hair in the nape of his neck stand up. "Oh, now you need to talk? What's the matter? Running low on girls you can control?"
Crispin flinched. "That's not fair."
She advanced on him again, fierce and unrelenting. "Are you here to invite her to your wedding?"
He froze. "What?"
He turned to Dorian, who shrugged and mouthedwedding?
"Oh, don't play dumb," Lule hissed. "Doesn't matter. She's sorted now. She doesn't need you. Oh ya, she deserves better than you. And I swear to God, if you come near her again-" Her voice rose in pitch, trembled with rage. "You pompous, entitled, emotionally-stunted bloody wanker! May your balls shrivel and your ego rot!"
She spun on her heel, storming up the steps to the flat, still cursing his parentage, manhood, and the tragically limited size of his brain.
