Page 91 of Cain
She scoffs and crosses her arms. “Since when are you so caring?”
That is an excellent question for which I don’t have the answer. Maybe I should say something dark enough and let it hang in the air. See what she says.
“Since I understood you’re the only weakness I’d kill to keep.”
I mean every word of it and more.
She hesitates. “Oh …”
The mere sight of her weakens me to my core, yet at the same time, she ignites a savage, animalistic craving that I relish with twisted delight. This duality corrodes my sanity, yet somehow, it’s the only thing that keeps me sane.
I walk across the room, sit on the edge of the bed, and speak again.
“I haven’t seen you dancing since you came here.”
There’s no actual reason for this chat. I just want to listen to her talking. See if she’ll lie or if she already knows she doesn’t love it anymore. Because I do.
“How do you … ?” I give her a sidelong glance. “Right.”
She remains silent for a few seconds, her eyes roaming on the floor. “It’s not possible to know everything about me.”
“Try me.”
“What’s my favorite color?”
“Pink. Not just any pink, though. You like baby pink.”
“My favorite food.”
“Chicken schnitzel.”
“Favorite fruit.”
“Clementine and cherries.”
“When is my birthday?”
“March 6. You’re a Pisces.”
A soft smile crosses her lips.Oh, baby, you have no idea what I know about you.
“What about you?” she asks.
“What about me?”
“When is your birthday?”
“November 11.”
“And how old are you?”
“Thirty-three.”
She gives me a sly side glance. “So you were around when the pyramids were built?”
I mask the flicker of surprise and the twisted amusement she stirs in me, rolling my eyes in response. She lets out a loud laugh, her face shining like something priceless.
“Now, tell me about dancing. It’s probably the one thing I don’t know.”
