Текст книги "Fable of happiness book two"

Автор книги: Pepper winters

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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 25 страниц)

So, I’d gone to her on my own. I’d knocked on her door. I’d strode past her when she opened, and I let her use me in every way she wanted.

I had no one else to blame for the blood running down my chest or the fact that I’d pissed myself when she’d shoved a dildo up my ass after ten hours of keeping me bound.

My bladder had given up. And with the release of pressure from needing to piss, my cock had turned soft.

In punishment, she’d shoved the phallus so deep inside me, I was sure I’d rip in two. If she was trying to get me back in the mood, bleeding out of my ass ensured I’d never get hard again.

“What? What is it, Annette?” Storymaker frowned, looking at me in my naked, piss-covered glory as if I was nothing more interesting than a boring book on a nightstand.

“He’s gone soft, and no matter what I do, he won’t get hard again.” She leaned into him, whispering loudly. “I gave him a Viagra a few hours ago. Aren’t those things supposed to last all night?”

Storymaker strolled in, eyeing up my flaccid cock with disgust. “Unfortunately, those wonder pills don’t seem to work as well on Kassen as the others, do they, boy?” He tapped my cheek, ending with a harsh slap.

My head shot sideways, sticking to the wood of the cross. I didn’t care. I was past caring.

“Unbuckle his right hand.” Storymaker spun to face Ms. Blain by the door. “Make him jerk off. Mr. Wilby showed him how to arouse himself.” Turning back to me, he grinned. “He knows the consequences of not being able to serve a guest in all ways they require, don’t you, Kassen?”

He grabbed my chin, jerking my face to him. I hoped he didn’t see the tracks of my tears or hear the brutal pain howling in my chest. “You’ll masturbate good and proper. Get that thing stiff. Annette here hasn’t finished her fun, and you know how important it is to keep our guests entertained.”

My right wrist was released, my shoulder flaring in agony.

Storymaker snatched my hand and shoved it between my legs, forcing fingers to wrap around my abused cock, squishing the softness until fresh tears sprang to my eyes. “Fuck yourself, Kassen. There’s a good boy. Don’t disappoint me. You know what will happen if you do.”

“Kas! Kas!” Hands on my chest, fingers in my hair, a warm curvy body against mine. “You’re okay. It’s just in your head. You’re here, with me. Not there. They can’t touch you—”

Touch?

Fuck, no.

Not again.

Never again.

I grabbed the person who dared to touch me. I latched around their throat.

I squeezed.

Nails sliced across my face as a reedy scream sounded. “It’s me. It’s Gemma! Stop—”

A choking sound. Legs kicking against mine. Cool water lapping around my body.

That name.

It wasn’t a guest’s name.

Something about it tugged me, called to me, whispered that it was the most important name in the world.

“Sto...p.” The kicking grew softer. Their fight fading...

Gemma!

My eyes shot wide.

It took a split second for everything to pour through me. Her arrival, her imprisonment, her kissing me, wanting me, talking to me. Her kindness, and her perfect, perfect heart.

“Fuck!” I ripped my hands off her.

She slipped under the water.

I snatched her back, wading to the shore, oblivious that my broken arm blared with fresh agony or that my legs struggled to stay upright with the vertigo in my mind and the river pushing with its currents.

All I focused on was getting Gemma, getting my friend, to safety.

It took all my strength to climb from the weightlessness of the water and back onto dry land, hoisting her body until she lay like a dead bride in my arms. “Come on. You’re okay. Open your eyes. Please, for God’s sake, open your eyes.” I kneeled next to my clothes, laying her gently in the grass, placing my hands over her heart to do CPR.

I pressed my mouth to hers, exhaling hard into her lungs, bracing with power to compress her chest.

She coughed.

She convulsed upright.

I helped turn her onto her side as she spewed up river water. Nasty red marks lined her throat, yet another collar of goddamn bruises left behind by my fingers. Spluttering, she pushed me away, her hands shaking and lips blue from shock.

It went against every instinct, but I let her go. I moved back. I gave her space.

Slowly, her coughing subsided, giving her enough strength to sit up and wrap her arms around her knees. She did her best to hide between her legs, revealing her lower body was naked, her skirt and boots still somewhere in the river. I supposed, just like she couldn’t wear leggings with the cuff, she couldn’t put underwear on either.

I didn’t know why that killed me, but it did.

Such a simple piece of fabric protection. Yet another piece of her modesty and sanity that I’d stolen.

Fuck.

I ran a hand through my dripping hair, crushed beneath the ever-growing boulder in my heart. I hadn’t seen her this bare since that night in the storm. I wanted to see more. I hated that it made me both sick with desire and distraught with regret.

She had bruises down her arms from whatever tasks she’d completed while nursing me back to health. She had scrapes on her legs and shadows on her chest from things she wouldn’t share with me, yet the worst thing? Her body was different from when she first found my valley, and I stole her.

The power that’d attracted me to her. The raw strength in honed muscles she’d crafted from years of discipline and climbing had faded.

She’d lost weight.

Lost enough to see the outline of her ribs as she heaved for breath and watched me with terrified eyes. Enough to turn her already flat stomach concave as she hugged herself and fought the urge to rock with panic.

Yet another mark I’d put on her. Another flaw of her captivity. I’d laid my hands on her and caused her pain, yet even on the days I kept my distance, I caused her untold misery.

I wasn’t feeding her enough. I wasn’t giving her the sustenance she needed to survive.

I was used to living on nothing. My body was lean and capable of existing on the low end of nutritional requirements. Hers, on the other hand, wasn’t used to such poverty.

Our eyes caught, and my heart squeezed into a bleeding pile of excrement.

I wanted to say sorry.

I wanted to explain it wasn’t her who I’d tried to hurt. It wasn’t her fault. It was mine. Entirely, insanely mine. I should tell her that my mind was broken. That she should stay away from the loner in the valley who suspected he had schizophrenia on top of a whole mansion worth of issues.

But...my throat closed up.

I couldn’t be there anymore.

I couldn’t witness the betrayal in her stare.

With a grunt, I climbed to my feet, grabbed the key from my jeans pocket, undid the chain between us, and dove into the river.

I couldn’t fix her or myself.

But I could fix that fucking generator, even if it was the last thing I’d ever do.

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CHAPTER TWENTY

HE UNDID IT.

I blinked at the splash where Kas had vanished underwater, my gaze flicking back and forth between the river and my ankle. The chain curled from my leg, still padlocked to me but not to him. The links were weighty and solid, but they coiled to nowhere...

How?

He’d said he’d never unlock us, ever.

So what...what the hell happened?

I touched my painful throat with shaking hands.

One second, he’d been explaining the hydro thing, and the next, he’d gone stone cold and white. Absolutely ghostly white with eyes wide, seeing something I couldn’t. I’d popped back up from being underwater and tried to get his attention with a soft tap on his shoulder, but he’d merely hunched into himself.

I’d deliberated leaving him to sort through whatever memories had attacked—after all, it was all the suppressing he’d done that caused such misery—but then he’d groaned exactly like a haunted, hunted animal, and I couldn’t leave him to his mind’s mercy. I couldn’t stand there and not do my best to snap him out of it.

It turned out, that’d been the wrong decision.

Swallowing, I winced as familiar soreness throbbed around my throat. At this point, I’d almost lost track of how many times he’d strangled me. I was past berating myself or feeling furious or even guilty for being silly enough to keep letting it happen.

This time, he hadn’t been strangling me. I’d known that. Anyone would’ve been able to see that if they looked into his hollow, hurting eyes.

What did he see?

What the hell has he lived through?

Kas popped up by the rapids, climbing from the deeper pool and wading through the shallower parts to the concrete structure in the middle of babbling white water. His naked back glittered with droplets as well as scars, complete with the leather belt that once bound us together. His long hair lay plastered over his shoulders, looking as if he’d just appeared from the jungle for a swim while his bare legs looked almost part of the river as he climbed over rocks and grew closer to his task. He wasn’t self-conscious as his cock bobbed between his thighs. He didn’t glance back at me to ensure I hadn’t run away. He acted as if he couldn’t stand to face me and hurled himself into distraction.

I bit my lip as he slipped on an algae-coated rock, falling to one knee. With his head bowed and both hands digging in the water up to his elbows, he looked as if he prayed to a river god.

He still wasn’t well. Doing this would tax him of whatever energy he’d been able to gain back. He’d brought me here to help, yet...I couldn’t seem to move.

Something called to me.

Something that had once been so strong I’d cried myself to sleep with longing, now whispered on the breeze.

Home.

I shivered as I turned and looked at the cliff surrounding us. The crisscross tree branch canopy shivered in the light wind, dropping the occasional orange and brown, crinkly and dead leaf.

The urge to run whispered louder.

Light-headedness from being strangled answered back.

Half of me swayed toward the rock face, gathering up strength to climb while the other half of me already knew how that story would go.

I would leave.

Kas would follow.

I would climb.

Kas would probably fall.

And I’d return because...

Why?

Because you’re worried about him? Because you care about him?

I winced.

I’d return because I was sick of going around in circles. Sick of fighting and arguing and going against all the nurturing and understanding parts of my nature.

This man was not at all well. Not just because of his concussion but something deeper than that. A rot had begun in his soul, and I didn’t know how much longer he had left. I cared because I cared about all life. It didn’t mean I wanted him for my own or had any delusions of why we were so drawn to one another.

After the last week of chained captivity and wallowing in my anger, I could never go back to that. He’d very successfully ensured that no matter how long I remained here, no matter what happened in the course of surviving together, I would never be stupid enough to fall in love. Whatever emotion I’d felt for him was no longer relevant—not because of strict pep talks in the dead of night, but because it just wasn’t possible to love something so damaged.

I could help, sure.

I could forgive, possibly.

But trust? Adore? Have faith that he was whole enough to love me back? To even understand the meaning of love?

That was where I had to draw the line.

After what he’d endured, I couldn’t blame him that pieces of himself were missing. I could understand that. I could respect that. But expecting a miracle where he suddenly grew a heart and let me go and actually willingly came with me back into society where help could possibly heal him...well, I no longer believed in fairy tales.

I’m too tired...

Tearing my eyes off Kas as he vanished into the large concrete box, ducking down to fiddle with whatever machinery made electricity from water, I chose a different story. I would not run today, but I would not help him either.

He’d hurt me.

And frankly, right now, I had nothing to give him.

Today, you’re on your own, Kassen Sands.

I was justified to rest...just a little while.

Exhaling heavily, wincing at the pain in my throat, I lay down on my back. I flinched for the numerous time at not having underwear on. My exercise bra seemed superfluous without panties protecting me. Since that first day Kas snapped the chain on me, I’d had to cut off my panties and couldn’t figure out how to get a new pair on that didn’t involve undoing the padlock.

I shouldn’t have taken off my skirt.

But it’d been clinging to my legs, making it hard to swim. I’d thought we’d stay submerged, complete the chore he’d chosen, and I’d put the material back on as we waded back to shore. I hadn’t expected him to strangle me and carry me out unconscious.

Does it matter?

He’d seen me.

He’d made it abundantly clear I wasn’t allowed to say no to him.

What difference did it make if I was nude or covered? He’d take me regardless.

My tiredness shoved away embarrassment and vulnerability.

In fact, it regressed me to animalistic roots, and I swooped up, yanked off my soaked bra, and tossed it away, leaving me sublimely bare to the hot sun.

I didn’t care anymore.

I just wanted to rest.

As I lay back, the long grass cradled me, forming around my body as if creating a natural hammock. The ground was warm and the sun beamed down, painting my nakedness with yellowy rays and shadowy crosses from the tree branch ceiling.

A splash came from the river, but I ignored it.

I gave myself this moment.

A single moment where I turned everything off.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d relaxed. Truly, completely relaxed.

It’d been too long. Way, way too long.

I didn’t know why I was suddenly able to switch off in his company after a week of living in constant awareness. A week where my skin prickled whenever he was close, and my instincts were hyper-sensitive to his every sound.

Perhaps it was his hands yet again around my throat, or maybe it was the fact he’d let me go and hadn’t checked to see if he needed to kill me to make me stay. Or maybe it was just because I’d reached my limit of being afraid, and this was now my new normal.

Either way, I only got to enjoy the sun’s golden rays for a few minutes before sleep crept over me, inching with its foggy fingers and pulling a velvet curtain over my mind. It soothed. It comforted. It erased the bruises around my neck, the bruises around my heart, sucking me deep, deep down into healing darkness.

* * * * *

I dreamed of softness and sensuality.

Two things that’d been missing in my life for far longer than when I’d first found this valley. I dreamed of my lovely lavender house. I strolled through my living room and ran my fingers over the back of my tan suede couch. I smiled at the TV as some cheesy rom-com played and inhaled with the utmost gratitude the scents of a vanilla cake baking in the oven.

Domesticated perfection.

I’d returned to my home that sheltered and protected me.

But it wasn’t lonely like before.

On the mantel, photo frames of a life shared with another replaced emptiness. In the fridge, beer rested beside my choice of white wine. In the bathroom, two toothbrushes existed instead of one.

I hugged myself in joy.

There was another person inside my perfect little home—a man who cherished and desired me. A man who came up behind me, spun me around in his arms, and settled his mouth over mine before I could see who my dream lover was.

I melted into his touch.

I gave him everything because he’d done the same for me.

He loved me to the tips of his toes.

And I loved him to the highest cliff I could climb.

The kiss started exquisitely sweet. A barely-there caress, a nip, a smile, a brush of promises. I moaned as he teased me, his hands worshiping as he gripped my waist and pulled me against his muscular body.

We both shivered as his obvious arousal dug into my stomach.

I laughed into his mouth.

He groaned into mine.

We didn’t need to speak to know just how much we needed each other and just how effortless it was between us. He knew what I was thinking before I did. I knew what he wanted before he could tell me. Everything between our hearts and minds was linked on a level that couldn’t be labeled.

Marriage couldn’t explain this. Friendship couldn’t describe this.

The only explanation could be fate.

My hands slinked into his hair, tugging a little as desire pooled in my belly. The soft kiss was now a tease. I wanted more.

He opened wider and took me harder, his lips firm and possessive. The first lash of his tongue hunting mine made my knees buckle. He wedged me against the couch and his hard body.

His hands roamed as he kissed me deeper. He palmed my breasts and pinched my nipples. He dragged his fingers down and down, dousing me in flames. With one hand he kneaded my hip while the other rocked against my clit.

I cried out, my moan swallowed by his deepening kiss.

He was everywhere. In my mouth, my mind, my heart. I couldn’t get a clear thought. I didn’t want a clear thought. All I wanted was him. Inside me. Taking me. Granting the release rapidly coiling in my core.

“Please...” I murmured into his mouth. “I need you.”

He reared back, his eyes burning with endless passion. His lips were kiss-swollen, and his scruff bristled like a caveman...but something was wrong.

Those eyes.

Neither black nor blue, undecipherable from green or hazel.

There were too many shadows in them. Too many horrors. Too much pain.

It broke my heart.

I cried for the splintered soul within.

And then, he kissed me viciously.

Slamming into me, he poured every shred of himself into me, feeding me every splintered piece, begging me to mend him, to stitch every tear and glue every fragment so one day he might have eyes that looked back with vibrant color instead of dead with despair.

But as he kissed me harder, as his touch turned desperate and the connection between us flared with fire, I began to fight.

It was too much.

Too hard.

I wasn’t enough.

I would never be enough to fix this man.

He would drown.

And I would drown with him.

Water babbled.

Air vanished.

No!

He didn’t stop.

Didn’t let me go.

He just kissed me harder, deeper, killing me with his unhappiness.

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CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

THE GENERATOR TURNED OUT to be an easier fix than I’d thought. Which was a good thing, seeing as I hadn’t brought any tools with me. I should’ve. I would’ve if I had half a working brain and not this mush of concussion. How was I supposed to fix anything without the necessary tools?

Idiot.

At least nature had taken pity on me and the issue turned out just to be debris. The turbine was buried beneath a pile of muck. I’d been right that the storm, when Gemma climbed up the cliff and tried to drive herself away, was the reason for the unworking machine. Mulched grass, twigs, and rotting bracken had wedged around the blades, tangling into a nest that wouldn’t allow water to spin the turbine.

After a few minutes of pulling, yanking, and struggling to hold my balance as I stooped over and worked, the first groan of the ancient propeller twisted and water coaxed it to move quicker. I cleared the rest and waited for a little while, partly to get my nausea under control and partly to check that no other debris arrived from upstream to clog it again.

The steady whirr of power being conjured from the water, and stored in the bank of batteries that would one day likely cease working, filled me with relief. For now at least, we had power. Electricity that meant we could continue living in a mansion with privileges such as an oven, fridge, and pressurized water to flush toilets and grant showers. Cold showers, mind you. And fucking icy in winter, but the electricity quantity only stretched so far.

Standing, I cricked the new twinges in my neck and rolled out my spine that made sure I understood it wasn’t happy about my current state of health.

My gaze ran over my valley to the cliff beyond. I didn’t go blank again. My thoughts remained my own and I shook my head for the hundredth time that I was still alive after a fall that high. Honestly, I couldn’t believe I’d survived.

Surely, something like that wasn’t survivable. Either it was some sick twist of fate or I was the butt of some obscene joke: permit the man who was more than happy to die but was too cowardly to do it himself an almost immortal ability to walk away from something that should’ve left him in pieces.

Literal, actual pieces.

Yet I’d walked away.

Well, she’d pulled me away but that was beside the point.

I still had full range of motion and wasn’t crippled. I still had my mind, even if it was a little scattered and sick at the moment. And sure, I had kinks where there used to be no pain, most parts of my body didn’t feel put together right, and my arm was taking its sweet time to knit together, but all in all, I’d been lucky.

So, so fucking lucky.

So...why do I feel so wretchedly lost?

Taking my time to climb from the concrete box, I gritted my teeth against the vertigo that clung to me like a bad smell, and planted my foot on slippery water-rippling rocks.

Everything inside me ordered my head to come up and check that she’d stayed. I’d fought the urge to look at the bank ever since I’d left her coughing because of what I’d done. But...I couldn’t do it.

I couldn’t look because if I looked and she wasn’t there—

Fuck me, I couldn’t even finish that thought without clutching at my heart and rubbing at the agony inside me. An agony that hadn’t been brought on by falling off a cliff but by falling in an entirely different matter.

Focus.

Get back across the river without drowning.

Haze flickered over my eyes as I kept my attention steadfast on the rapids and squinted as the sun bounced off crystal clear water. A few fish scattered past in the current, seeking deeper pools, while the crayfish in this area favoured the shadowy inlets closer to the cave system.

Slipping into the swimming hole, the urge to look to see if I’d lost my captive once again crushed me.

Look!

You need to know!

Get ready to run after her.

I ducked under water instead and screamed.

Bubbles shot from my mouth as I clutched long, tangled hair floating by my ears, and fought the urge to cause myself physical harm. I’d been down that dangerous road and didn’t like how good it’d felt. How it offered a release valve to all the shit I’d endured.

My hand went to the splint covering my broken arm, rubbing over the marks that were entirely self-inflicted and not guest given.

It hadn’t been my idea. I was always more focused on my family’s misery than my own, but I’d caught Quell hurting herself one afternoon. She’d smuggled a pencil into the dorm and put herself into a trance by stabbing the nib through her forearm, again and again, leaving pinpricks of silvery lead and bright blood like a morbid constellation. I’d taken the pencil off her. I’d held her as she cried. I’d understood her self-harm was a cry for help. A scream for freedom and a primitive urge to control her own pain after she’d been hurt by others for so long.

As her tears had dried, I’d been curious and punctured my own arm with the pencil. Surprisingly, the tip went in easier than I imagined; a sharp pinch and then nothing. I was well acquainted with my blood and swallowed against the rush of sick satisfaction as I bled.

Quell watched silently as I punctured myself again and again, slipping into the same trance she’d been in. It’d felt good. Powerful. Addictive.

I’d wanted to stay in that power.

With a kiss to my cheek, she’d stolen the pencil and threw it out the window. It’d landed on the roof outside with a soft clatter, just as Jareth walked in, white faced and hollowed eyed, his body showing multiple wounds from serving a sick and twisted guest.

He’d given us a wobbly grimace.

Quell and I had looked at each other and then to our bleeding arms and shuddered. We had no words why delivering our own pain felt so good after being at the mercy of others. We recognised that if we went down that path, it could result in not just drawing a little blood but taking an entire life.

And that idea...of finally being totally free was far, far too enticing.

“Promise me, never again,” I’d murmured, linking my fingers with hers as Jareth threw himself face-first on his bed with a tortured groan.

She’d nodded and vowed, “Only if you promise me the same.”

I’d nodded and let her go. We placed our branded arms together, relishing in what we’d done and vowing never to do it again. We had a matching tattoo. The lead from the pencil had stained us. No one else knew how such a dotted design ended up on our skin but whenever we looked at each other’s, we’d stare, we’d nod, and we’d keep our joint secret.

I never told her but I was sickly proud that out of all our wounds and all our scars, we’d taken a sliver of power back by marking ourselves. We owned us, not them. Our blood had said so.

Stop it!

I shot to the surface for air, drinking down oxygen and shoving away memories. They weren’t permitted in the light of day. My mind and walls knew that. So why the fuck had I had two in such a short amount of time?

My fingers burned as if I still held Gemma’s throat in my hands.

My head automatically snapped to the bank before I could stop myself, my eyes unwilling to see the truth. The truth of an empty riverside, of no one there.

Wait, what?

I flinched and coughed as my legs forgot how to swim and I drank a mouthful of river by accident.

She’s...she’s still here.

I blinked.

I couldn’t understand.

Why?

She was free.

I’d let her go.

I’d hurt her again.

In some broken cavern in my heart, I’d fully expected her to run as far and as fast as she could. I’d almost snarled at her to get away from me before I could hurt her again.

So...why hadn’t she gone?

Panic suddenly flared down my limbs.

No.

She was lying down.

I could barely see her, enveloped by the long grass swaying softly in the sun.

She’s lying down...

She wasn’t hating me, cursing me, or plotting my demise. She was...

Dead?

Holy shit, did I kill her?

I bolted. I swam like a drowning otter and shot across the pool as fast as I could.

Please, please, please...

I couldn’t breathe.

My head pounded.

My body throbbed.

I was two seconds away from hurling up our meagre breakfast. If I’d killed her now? If I stole the only thing in my life that granted a second’s worth of peace? If I hurt the one person who actually tried to help me?

Christ, I’d do a hell of a lot more than just self-harm.

“Shit, Gemma!” I ducked under the water and swam until my entire body burned. I grabbed the shore and hauled myself up, ignoring my staggers, my injuries, my goddamn concussion and fell to my knees beside her.

I went to shake her, to snap her awake, but at the last second, I froze.

If she was dead...God—

I pulled back, hesitant to discover my worst nightmare. Staying back, I reached shaking fingers, softly, reluctantly.

“Gemma...” I grazed her cheek, dripping wet beside her.

Nothing.

Gritting my teeth, I dropped my unwilling fingers to her throat. Her skin was mottled from my strangulation. I snarled as I waited for her pulse.

Please. Fucking, please!

There.

Thud-thud, thud-thud.

Not faint, not flickering. Strong and bold and the entire embodiment of the brave girl who continued to fight me head on.

I collapsed, giving in to the swirling pain inside my skull.

Thank God.

Just asleep.

She’s just asleep.

Why she hadn’t woken and why she lay so disturbingly still didn’t matter. If she was half as exhausted as I was from the past month of existing together, I could understand her body had finally reached its limit.

I was very familiar with that limit.

I’d reached it multiple times over the years when trying to prepare for winter all by myself. I’d reached it while living at Fables and having to serve for fourteen hours straight. Sleep wasn’t a luxury when you were worked to the bone and terrified to your core. Sleep was a necessity that could only be ignored for so long before it snatched you anyway.

Slowly, my panic receded and I lay on my back, soaking in the sun, grateful for the heat and comfort. Funny, that I’d lay on this embankment a thousand times over the past eleven years, yet this was the first time I’d felt...safe.

Some days, I’d spend all day here, just watching the clouds scatter and letting dozy oblivion keep all my memories locked away. Sometimes, I even found true peace. I could breathe better out here. I could relax instead of staying on my guard inside that prison turned home. Yet, no matter how many birds came to investigate my prone form or wildlife slinked out of the grasses to sniff me after I’d been still for hours on end, I’d never felt so content.

The only difference between this autumn afternoon and all the rest, was her.

Gemma Ashford who slept so silently and still beside me. Whose mind was currently unattainable and her body so bare and blisteringly beautiful. The girl who somehow managed to give me slivers of happiness inside my eternal hell.

I sighed.

My body relaxed.

My cock remained hard, my belly tight with desire. It would’ve been a physical impossibility to lie beside her nakedness and not want her. But in the companionable silence between us, the peace she gave me was infinitely more precious. A peace that was so damn rare. A peace that I’d never tasted before.

It was different to sleeping beside my family in the dormitory.

Different to sleeping on my own.

Sleeping beside her was like being gifted her trust even while I knew I could never earn it. The pressure in my chest increased with something I couldn’t name, followed by black fear that she’d wake and figure out she was still unbound and leave.

As much as my thoughts had softened and I was suffering new emotions I would never confess to her, I was still far too selfish to let her go.

With a groan, I sat up, grabbed the length of chain by her ankle and clipped it to the padlock around my waist. Relief came swift, thanks to the evidence of our joint imprisonment, and sleep came for me too.

Quick and heavy and too hard to ignore.

I closed my eyes as she sighed beside me, nuzzling her cheek into the grass.

* * * * *

Time skipped or I must’ve dozed longer than I thought because when I opened my eyes again, the sun had skated farther across the sky and the clouds that’d danced above us had now vanished, leaving behind a perfect blueness. An endless saturation of soothing horizon.