Page 19 of Micro
“Maybe we should put ice on it again for a bit, and leave this off.”
Lowell passed me two of my pills, and cradled my mug of tea in his hands for a moment.
“Probably still a bit hot, but you need to take those now. I’ll get you some water.” He was out of the room before I could even formulate a response. When he returned, he had the water, and a bag of frozen peas, and set to freeing my wrist carefully from the brace, resting it on a pillow, and wrapping the bag of peas in my discarded t-shirt from last night, resting them over my swollen wrist.
“Okay, now pills.” Once he was satisfied that he’d looked after me, he stood up again. “I’ll make something for you to eat. I’m not the best cook, but I could scramble some eggs again, and-”
“You don’t have to do that, Lowell, you’ve done so much already. I’ll get up and do those things in a minute.” He laughed and petted my shoulder.
“Babe, you brought me back from the fucking brink. This is the least I can do,” he paused, “unless the prospect of my cooking is that terrifying, and I wouldn’t blame you for that.”
I caught his hand, and tugged him down to sit again.
“What did you mean last night?”
“Huh?” He was even cuter when he looked bemused, but I was tired of wondering about what he was feeling, and what I felt.
“I’m not too good for you, Lowell,” I held up my hand as he tried to speak, “I’m a chemist, cooking up drugs for a biker club, for god’s sake. I’m not a good person, but I want to be, especially if you’ll give me a chance to prove it to you.”
Lowell groaned, his eyes searching mine for a moment, before he glanced away. He seemed to be preparing himself, or planning what to say in response, and I almost spoke again, to hurry him, but that’s not how a conversation works, is it?
“Jesus, babe, that stuff doesn’t make you a bad person. You’re doing it to keep your little sister safe, and that’s noble as fuck. It’s not about who you are anyway. It’s about me. I’m not a good guy. I’ve done things… I…” he stood up, further distancing himself from me. Was he really trying the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ line right now?
“Lowell?”
He’d started to pace, and his agitation was practically emanating from him in waves, making me want to simultaneously comfort him, and back away to a safe distance.
“There’s no way I could deserve someone decent like you, Soph. Your heart is so fucking pure, and I’m an asshole. A monster. A thug. The things I’ve done… I deserved to die on that hill, but you saved me. You risked everything to rescue a man and nurse him back to life, and it… I didn’t deserve that, not after what I did.”
He looked and sounded almost tearful, and I was moving before I realised it, trying to go to him, to, I don’t know, hold him? Soothe him? Kiss him? I had no idea what, but he caught me as I stepped up in front of him, his hands on my shoulders, but braced to keep me back.
“I shouldn’t be touching you. I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve any of it.” His voice was dropping to a whisper, but his eyes were at least firmly on mine now, and I could see it in his eyes; pain, despair, heartbreak…anguish. He was hating himself for something, but how bad could it even be? He was a good man. I’d learned that since we’d been growing closer. How could he think I was somehow too good for him?
“Babe, you’re meant for something better,someonebetter. Not a fucking prick like me. Even though I’d treat you like a fucking goddess, it could never make up for the evil things I’ve done. I wish it could. I wish I could be your guy, I really do.”
I lifted my good hand, pressing it against his hard chest, his body heat emanating at me through the thin t-shirt.
“You keep referring to evil things you did, but I don’t see how you’d be capable of anything that bad, Lowell, you’re such a gentle, thoughtful guy.” He snorted, resting a hand over mine on his chest, his heart thudding rapidly beneath my palm.
“Gentle. Thoughtful. Babe, I may seem like I’m capable of those things with you, but ask anyone who knows me, and they’ll say very different things. Asshole. Prick. Wiseass. And that’s if they’re feeling kind, which they won’t. I don’t deserve that from them. More likely, they’ll call me sick, twisted, cruel, evil, or even dead meat. Because that’s what I’ll be if they find me, and babe,thatis what I deserve.” I swear his eyes filled with tears at those words, but he quickly pulled away from me again. Was he going to always keep me at arm’s length, sometimes literally? The more he argued, the more I wanted him.
I followed him from my bedroom, finally catching his arm and dragging him to a halt.
“Dammit, Lowell, just fucking look at me!”
Twelve
Whywasshepushingthis? She must have been able to tell that I was a shitty person deep down, right? I’d proved that to everyone I’d ever fucking known. Lowell the asshole, son of Leif the fucking cunt. Had I ever been just me, or had I always just been an extension of the awful people in my life?
Her hand on my arm was fucking torture, just like every touch was, because I wanted more, but I had no right to want that, did I?
“Lowell, please,” she whispered, and I turned, letting myself look at that beautiful face, those wide eyes, and those fucking lips I wanted to taste again.
“Woman, I only have so much willpower, and you’re pushing me to my limit. Do I want you? Of course I fucking want you. Every second I’m awake, I fucking want you. You enter the room, and I’m picturing you naked. You smile at me, and I’m picturing your mouth on me. You touch me, and I wanna fucking throw you down and fuck you. Wanting you is not the problem. Knowing I’d be tainting you with my fucking evil is the problem.”
She was blinking fast, still absorbing my words, when I decided that one kiss might just help us both get past this urge, so we could move on. Was it my best thinking? Nope, any thinking done with either of my brains was always bad decision making.
I grabbed her chin and dipped my head, catching her lips with mine, and if I thought she’d pull back or resist at all, maybe even hoped she would, I couldn’t have been more wrong. With a sigh, she just relaxed into me, her lips parting and her tongue teasing at my lips. I was so fucking lost, taking the kiss from tentative and gentle to something so much more. Before I knew it, I’d pushed her back against the wall, and our tongues were getting really well fucking acquainted, and it was only when she suddenly yelped with pain that we stopped, and I pulled away. Did I fucking hurt her? I knew I was a monster, and I didn’t deserve her, and here I was proving that fact.
