Page 277 of Ominous: Part 1
“Did he hurt you?”
“No.”
“Eden.”
I tip my head up, my eyes woolen, and the dark edges of the ceiling spin, but I meet his gaze in the cover of what looks like night.
“Baby, please don’t lie.”
“He didn’t.” It isn’t a lie. I wasn’t hurt. Not physically. But I know he wants more. Maybe telling him some of my secrets will help him feel closer with me, like his in the library that night did to us. “He… hugged me.” I hear the words. How they sound.
Dull.
They carry no weight as words alone.
But everything is always heavier with us.
“He did, huh?” Not even a touch of anger. Only endless depths of calm.
I am not fooled.
I take a breath. “It’s over.”
He smiles, the white of his teeth visible in the dark room. “Oh?”
He doesn’t have Zachary’s name. I won’t give him a name. “People have hurt you too. I don’t go around smiling creepy little smiles and asking cryptic little questions in order to get back at them.” His mom.
Tell me about your mom.
“You attacked Luna last night for touching me. You pulled a knife on her.” There’s wonder in his tone, even as he reminds me I’m not a saint. I possess him, too.
But I don’t want him to get in trouble over someone not worth a breath. “If you had been there, it would’ve been one thing—”
“Let’s not talk about what would’ve happened if I had been there.”
My temper grows, seeming to burn away some of my high. All of my paranoia. It feels better, to be angry. Better than sad or scared or haunted.“Eli.”
He lifts a single brow, his face a mask of boyishness. Like we’re discussing ice cream or movies or bands or Chaucer. “Hmm?”
“I’m okay.”
He sweeps his gaze over me.
I disentangle myself from him, like if he can see me from further away, he’ll see how okay I am.
At once I panic over the loss of his warmth while some of my anxiety eases for it, cool air rushing in where our bodies had been joined. I rub a fist over my eye, grateful it’s still dim.
I have no idea what I look like.
“Eden.”
I drop my fist, glancing at it on my thigh. “I’m sorry I panicked. The weed… I’m sorry I ruined your night.”
My shin is parallel to the head of the bed, my kneecap close to his, beneath the covers, and it occurs to me he was sleeping sitting up. With me.
For me.
I don’t look at him, only stare at the sheet over his thighs.
