Page 172 of Eternal
“Why?” I tease, tilting my head. “Am I such a horrible partner that you’re scared of trusting me?”
She doesn’t laugh.
Instead, her hand is on me, warm fingers along my jaw, tilting my face toward hers.
Her eyes are killing me… she should know better than to touch me like this.
“I’m getting attached to your presence,” she says, voice softer than I expect. “And I know it’s bad. I know you’re hiding something.” Her thumb brushes my chin, andfuck. “I just seem to not care enough.”
That’s what destroys me.
Not that she suspects, not that she’s caught the cracks in my lie, but she knows and still won’t stop herself. We’re in the same fucked up situation.
I swallow, slow. “It’s dangerous to not trust your instincts, you know.”
Her fingers linger before she pulls away. “You’re telling me?”
And it almost sounds like she’s smiling.
We eat, we laugh, just like always, then she smiles, a little too long, and it’s at me, and I don’t know why, but I can’t look away.
It feels like something I don’t have a name for
Something warm, something I want, something that makes me happy in so many ways.
I exhale through my nose, watching her, letting the silence settle. And then, “Let’s play a game.”
She lifts an eyebrow, unimpressed.
I lean forward, arms resting on my thighs. “I’ll ask you a question. You answer, and then you ask me one. I’ll answer. Fair trade. How about that?”
She doesn’t react immediately. She just gets up, taking her bowl and my plate, moving to the counter like she can just brush off the craving I’m feeling right now.
I follow, and just as she sets the dishes down, I cage her in, arms on either side of her, palms pressed against the counter.
My breath brushes the side of her face as I lean in, close but not touching.
“So,” I murmur, voice low. “What do you say about this little game?”
“Okay.” She replies with a smile.
I lean in just a fraction closer, my breath brushing her temple.
“I’ll go first,” I murmured. “Why did you decide to cook breakfast for me?”
She exhales sharply, like she wasn’t expecting something so…simple. But I wanted to know. I wanted to understand. I wanted her to tell me. I wanted to hear it.
“Because you stayed,” she says, voice quieter now.
Because I stayed.
My eyes flicker, but I don't react, and don't let her see how deep that answer sinks into me. Instead, I tilt my head. “Your turn, partner.”
She licks her lips, thinking. “Why do you never tell me the full truth about yourself?”
My jaw tightens. “Because you’d hate me if I did.”
Her fingers flex against the counter, and for a second, I wonder if she’s going to push me away, but she doesn’t. “Your turn,” she whispers back.
