Page 106 of Fragile Facade
I want to throw love at him in droves because I feel it so strongly.
I don’t know how to be soft right now. My puzzle no longer sits on the table. The pieces are scattered all over the floor, my foundation is crumbled, and I’m not the illusionist who projects the mirage of me. I’m just some boy, standing in front of another boy, feeling things with my heart for the first time.
Put me back together!
“I—” I swallow down words, wanting to say them but not wanting toneedto say them. “I need the ninety… I need?—”
“Death,” Killian says for me. “You need Death.”
Yes. Take me to her.
Because I unmasked Killian Hallows, and unmasking him is the epitome of breaking him. I’ve always wanted to break him; it’s been my goal for so long. I don’t crave it anymore. I don’t want him to be broken, but I don’t have it in me to express how beautiful he is without anything hiding who he is. Not right now. I’m way too vulnerable to start talking about beauty, and I need a brush with Death to stabilize me.
Me. Me.Me. Always me first. Because nothing proves my self-worth more to me than defying Death. I need to prove that I’m stronger than her.
I need it right fucking now!
Killian delivers. Because he’s feeling the same intense pressure and out-of-control vulnerability as I am. I see it in his turbulent eyes, the clouds brewing, readying to unleash their storm. On me.
He balls his fists and tries to tamp down his breathing, but when he snaps, it’s in my direction. He comes at me fast, charging like he has no control over his feet. When his body impacts mine, the air knocks from my lungs, but I don’t have time to think about that. His force carries me, my feet tangle in a random rope, and the bedroom's single-paned window shatters against my back.
I break through it.
Fear strangles me, but not hard enough that I can’t still laugh. Gravity disappears and my stomach rises to my throat as I explode through the second-story window. Glass shards surround me, and Killian lets go. A joyous, terrified scream rips through my vocal cords, Death watching me closely. Her hellions and demons all come forth, creeping out of shadows and crevices to bear witness to my fall from rancid grace.
The cool night air is fresh and shocking, the sky lit up with stars and a moon that’s only a sliver. As my legs scrape the sill, I fall backwards. My body tilts, the treetops and neighbouring houses come into view, and when I roll my eyes as far back as they can go, the ground and certain injury stare back at me. I smile at it because I’m sicker than Krypt. I laugh at it because I’m going to mar it as much as it’s going to mar me.
I jar to a stop, my teeth clacking so hard my mouth fills with blood and my stomach keeps falling while the rest of my body stops. The world goes still as I hang from the window, my calves still hooked over the ledge. I can’t see him, but Killian’s hands hold my shins, preventing me from falling but having the power to drop me whenever he sees fit. He once called himself my god…
My life is in his hands. I’ve never felt safer and in more danger than I do right now.
I throw my arms back, letting them hang as blood fills my head and puts pressure on my eyes. Upside down, Moros looks even more twisted. The trees sprout from the sky and the empty windows all blink at me, Death’s minions in each pane of glass. My heart is pounding hard, but Killian’s grip is a tether I didn’t think I’d want but feel assured to have.
I love him…
Just in case…
Fuck. I really don’t want to die now.
When my body jostles, I look up to see him tying my ankles to something. “I’m not close enough.”
“I know,” he says, continuing to wrap something around my feet while he pins my shins down with the other arm.He knows…
“What’re you doing?”
“I’m showing you off to that bitch Death. Stay there, sweetheart. I’ll be right back.”
When he lets go, I drop another few inches as the rope’s slack tightens, but the window above me is empty, no grey eyes looking down at me. So, I hang. Because I like the perspective.
But I like it more that Death is watching me. I’ve lured her here, and I’m in no rush to lose all her attention. Wickedly, I smile.
* * *
When Killian returns,it’s with an angry mob.
I hear the shouting first, angry voices coming down the street so loudly that they startle me from my deathly slumber. I can’t feel my legs anymore, and I should have pulled myself up long ago because the muscles in my abs won’t function now that they’re deadened with immobility. My fingers are numb, but my arms are tingly, asleep, limp, and out of my control. But my eyes still work.
I open them, looking at the street upside down. Killian leads the charge while a trail of angry people follow behind, yelling words I can’t yet make out. Killian is dragging someone, not slowing his pace at all, entirely blocking out whatever the mob is shouting at him. The parade and party on Death Row still sounds in the distance, but it’s washed out as Killian’s personal procession gets closer.
