Page 42 of Ominous: Part 1
Moving on, she drops her hand by her side and stares out the three glass doors to the back patio. In my head, I hear Dad slamming my skull against the middle one. I imagine what Eden would say, if she could see it replaying in my mind on a loop.
Would it scare you? The ways I want love?
She doesn’t look back, but her narrow shoulders stiffen, and I glance at the peak of her neck above the collar of her sheer, silk shirt. The thick roots of her hair, pulled up into her clip. In all black, with those black leather leggings clinging to the round curves of her ass, her thick, black boots, but there’s something delicate about her, even in the ways she seems to say,you can’t scare me, Eli.
You have no idea, baby girl.
I smile to myself and follow her gaze, seeing the onslaught of rain over the pool, gray pelting against brightest blue. The umbrellas dotted around the mosaic tiles, a waterfall spilling into the hot tub set above pool level, separated by green plants draped over the edges of dark stones.
Another fire pit curved against the burnished tile, built-in bench of seats. And that’s just the pool.
Even the wind doesn’t move the chairs, and the umbrellas are closed, near the sheltered bar and glass walls of the rectangular pool house.
Eden’s red lips are pressed together, and she stares with cool detachment.I’m not impressed.She says it without words.
My body feels hot, and there’re only a few feet between us, but somehow, it feels like too much, when I want her like this.
“Nice pool.” She says the words flatly, folding her arms across her chest and glancing at me, arching one thick brow. “What’re we doing tonight?”
I smile at her forced disinterest. I didn’t tell her we were stopping by, worried she’d refuse to get in the car with me, or inwardly panic the entire drive, too caught up in her own head to focus on my questions. She puts on a cool front.
It’s a lie.
“You like my pool?” I counter, still smiling.
As I ask the question, I imagine her in it.
It’s September. We have at least until November to swim. By Halloween there’s usually too much of a chill to do so comfortably, but the pool is heated, so we can stretch it out. Dad doesn’t care either way, but I do.
I want every minute I can get in it.
The hot tub is always available, and I can sit on the bottom of it, but it’s not enough. They say you can drown in a teaspoon of water, but why die in the shallow?
If water ends me, I want it to be an ocean. Something farbiggerthan me. Something that deserves to kill me. Hot tubs, pools, lakes, none of those are good enough.
I think of my hand over Eden’s nose. Her mouth. My body moving above hers. Wild eyes, scratch marks down my arms as she fights me, just like she said she would.
Are you sure?
Is it what you really want?
You know you can’t take these kinds of things back.
I know you’re not as tough as you try to look. Be soft with me.
The teaspoon of water doesn’t deserve my mortality. Suffocation, even if I was fucking her at the same time, wouldn’t deserve Eden’s. Besides, we’re the type of people to live forever, even if we don’t want to. Maybebecausewe don’t want to. I think God enjoys orchestrating a little suffering.
“It’s… pretty.” Eden shrugs, and with the movement, my gaze drifts over her shoulders again, down her slender arms, made smaller by the black of her top. The lime green of her bra. She’s a fucking tease despite her buttoned collar, and I like knowing she doesn’t seem to care. She isn’t looking to please anyone at all, she just likes what she likes.
I drop my gaze to her ass, not small at all. If anything,biggerbecause of the leather of her pants, the high waist.
She turns fully then, stepping slowly toward me, and I flick my eyes upward to meet hers, a jarring mix of blue and green and brown, I don’t think I’ll ever get them out of my head, no matter where we go from here.
With me. Wherever we go, come with me.It’s crazy to think these things, and yet I can’t stop.
“Pretty?” I counter.
She rolls her eyes. “Your dad…” She clears her throat and I wonder if she’s thinking of my mom. Any other parents she might think I have. “He’s not going to be here, right?”
