Page 9 of Creep
“Are you… okay?”
I stare back into his blue eyes, and note to bring him a comb tomorrow. “M-me?” It’s probably his way of asking why I’m still here. “I… I’m sure you’re exhausted by what happened. Get some rest,” I say and turn around, ready to flee, but his feet hit the floor, and then he’s once again holding onto my wrist.
“No, please, don’t leave me,” he rasps, his breath shallow as if he’s on the precipice of a panic attack.
I turn around, unsure what to do with him. I never intended any of this, but when that motherfucker shoved him around, all I could see was red. “I don’t intend to hurt you. This is temporary. Probably.” Ugh. Shouldn’t have added that last bit, I know that by the expression on his face.
His eyes remain red, and the skin under them is puffy, with a purplish tint, but now that I have the chance to see his face from up close, the shade of his irises draws me in, as if he brought a piece of the sky into my underground home.
“I-uh… that’s okay. I’m just scared. I did not want to hurt you,” he mumbles and, after a moment’s hesitation, reaches to the wound on my arm.
I shrug. “Don’t worry about it,” I say even though it just barely stopped bleeding a while ago. “I brought you this. I was going to just leave it on the nightstand, but then you woke up, and…” I drift off. This is why I don’t date. Holding my ground with enemies, sure. Keeping my brothers in check, doable. Whatever I’m doing right now? Pure fucking agony.
I reach into my pocket and present him with the large smooth amethyst I got from our resident witch, Brigid. She told me this crystal is calming and promotes restful sleep, and going by the contents of my guest’s home, he likes that kind of thing.
His lips are plump and pink as he bites them, taking in my gift. “That’s… so thoughtful. Are you also into crystals?” he asks and gently takes the stone from my hand.
“Not really, but a friend of mine is.”
And all I can think about is that heknows. He knows I like him. He knows I licked cum off his fingers. I need to leave before I embarrass myself further, but he won’t have it and pulls me toward the armchair. “I practically live in the store that sells crystals in my town. Marina is so kind and always keeps the best stuff for me, even the things that sell out fast. Do you know your birthstone?”
I can’t believe he’s talking to me instead of trying to stab me again, and I’m not sure what to do with that. “No.”
He only lets go once the backs of my knees hit the seat. “Oh, so when’s your birthday?” he asks and walks off. I stiffen, worried he might bolt for the door again, but instead he grabs a clean towel and a bottle of water, and returns to my side.
“June twenty-fifth.” I’m not sure what to make of him dabbing the towel on my wound. It’s… nice. I feel so exposed though. Am I even doing the conversation right? I usually don’t give a shit, but I want him to like me. Even if the circumstances are not playing in my favor.
He grins and cleans my wound with more water, as if he really cares whether I live or die. “That’s a good month. Let’s see, there’s pearl, moonstone, and alexandrite. The fun thing about that last one is that it changes color depending on the light. I suppose that’s a bit like you,” he adds, meeting my gaze.
I swallow, because I don’t remember ever having a boy this handsome touch me, and I hope he steps back so I can discreetly place a cushion in my lap before my excitement becomes too obvious.
The last thing I want is for him to bear the discomfort of my attraction to him. This cave is my home, not a cell, but he doesn’t know that. To him it’s probably a serial killer’s lair.
“I… change color?” I frown at him and attempt to bite my nail but my captive gently pulls my hand down.
His lips crook. “You’re getting a bit pink right now. But you’re a Cancer, so it makes sense you’re very passionate about things.”
Ifeelmy face burning. He’s taking so much time washing the dried blood off my forearm I could be fooled that hewantsto touch me. “Oh no, I’ve never been called ‘passionate’. ‘Emotionally stunted’? Sure.” I snort like it’s a joke, but is it? Maybe it’s one of those ‘it’s funny because it’s true’ kind of jokes. “What’syourstar sign?” I ask to change the topic. I don’t know much about those, but if he cares, so do I.
He puts away the towel and strokes my arm. “I’m a Pisces, and you were actually spot on with the amethyst, since that’s my birthstone. What are the odds, right?”
It feels as if something isbloominginside me. Moths flutter their wings in my stomach, and while I’m lightheaded, it’s not from blood loss. I smile. “One in twelve?”
I make a mental note to ask Brigid if Pisces and Cancer would make a good match. She’d know about those things.
He watches me with a small smile, then steps back and settles on the bed, watching me. While I’m adept enough atreading body language to know he remains wary, he’s no longer frightened of my presence. “I’m Angel, by the way. And what’s your name?”
“Cree…” Really? I take a deep breath, torn between telling him my real name and the nickname everyone uses. I took it on, and made it mine for years now, but could he not know me as something else? There’s no one around to tell him otherwise. “Cree…” No. I can’t do it. It’s ridiculous. I know what I am. I clear my throat. “Creep. Just call me Creep,” I say and get up, because I’ve overstayed my welcome. This might be my home, but it’s not his fault that he ended up here.
He shoots back to his feet too. “Um…. am I boring you? We can change the topic. Like… why do you live in a cave with scary birds? What are the birds? Are they your pets, like the spider? It’s a very cute spider!”
I stop, halfway to the door. His voice is so nice, but I do notice it got a higher pitch at the end. He’s nervous. Who wouldn’t be around me? When you lurk in the shadows, you get to hear what people really think about you. But I also don’t know how to fix this. He’s a witness to my crime. What am I supposed to do? Let him take the stand and end up in prison for life? My club wouldn’t have it.
I try to focus on the question at hand. “No. They’re vultures. Some of them sleep in the caves. If by any chance you end up near them again, don’t approach them, they are dangerous.”
He pales and steps closer. “They won’t get in here, will they? I destroyed one of their eggs. It was an accident,” he adds, as if that wasn’t obvious. He doesn’t seem to be someone who’d hurt anyone or anything just because.
My shoulders sag and I shake my head. “No, even if, by any chance, one ventured into the tunnels, the door would keep it out. They’re not vengeful, you’re safe.” I want to stroke his pretty blond hair so badly I ball my hands into fists to stop myself.
