Page 364 of Eternal
In the bathroom mirror, I see his gaze in the reflection and that’s when I notice he’s in black too.
A fitted shirt, black slacks. We match.That stupid little fact makes me smile, for no good reason.
He did it on purpose and I want to turn around and kiss him.
His hands glide down to my hips, then lower, enough to settle there. “Tight enough,partner?” he murmurs.
I nod, eyes still locked on his fingers. “Perfect.”
He smiles, softer than usual. “It looks really, really good on you.” Then he drops to his knees and I blink.
He turns me gently and looks up at me with that ridiculous grin of his. His hands find the strap of the thigh holster and adjust it carefully against the inside of my leg. Then he leans in and kisses the skin above the strap, and bites me.
My breath catches. I grab him by the collar and pull him up, kiss him slowly.
“That hurt,” I murmur against his lips.
He kisses me again and laughs softly. “Too tempting.”
Our foreheads press together, both of us breathing harder now. Quietly.
“This is important,” I whisper. “We stay focused, right?”
He slides a hand up into my hair, fingertips brushing the back of my neck.
“Focused,” he says, voice low and rough. “Always. We’ll be together. It’ll be fine.”
I kiss him again, deeper this time. A little hungrier, once more, because I’m happy to have him with me. Then I pull back, slowly before I get lost in it.
I grab my phone, my bag, the knife tucked into the side pocket as he watches me.
Time to go.
101
AZRA
“Angel” by Massive Attack, Horace Andy
Present
The door is gigantic, it’s matte black, no name, only a man watching like he already knows who’s worth letting in.
Damir doesn’t slow, doesn’t nod, he looks at him coldly but I smile at the security guard, bat my eyelashes and the man moves.
First step done.
Inside, it’s dark, music is blasting but it’s not heavy, it's simply weird. Everything feels weird.
We take our seats, red velvet, decadent, too soft.
We’re across from each other, a small black table between us, mirrors line the walls behind, angled perfectly so every movement is visible, every glance too.
A server approaches. Pale eyes, nervous smile. “Can I offer you both a drink?”
Damir doesn’t look at him. “Opus One, 2012, if you have it.”
“For both of you?” the server asks.
