Suspicious of this behaviour, I keep one eye on him as I look around for my discarded items, but he stays put and watches me in that silent predator way of his. Seeming more like the man of the last few months than the sadist of pre-shooting myself in the face days.
I know it’s been there all along and I was oblivious to how far it went. The little niggles that something had changed were all dismissed, and now looking at him silently observing me, I can see the uncertainty in his demeanour is very real.
If he isn’t lying, if he means what he says, it explains a lot from the past few weeks—about the change in him. I just don’t understand why though.
Nothing happened that made him suddenly grow feelings for me. I left, he found me; we carried on. Nothing at all to sway how he saw me.
“I’m not good at this.” He blurts it out in an almost painful rush of words as I glance at him again. That broad set of shoulders on that powerfully large body sagging slightly, the drop of his chin as he looks at the floor hesitantly again. He seems so much tamer than how he normally is.
“Good at what? Losing games? I’m not playing so there’s no win or lose about it.” I blanch at him sarcastically, pushing my thoughts aside as nonsense and go in search of one of my shoes, bewildered that it’s vanished from sight and venture further into the apartment to find it. I didn’t think I threw it this far. Then again, I threw with venom and probably much harder than I realised. It’s not lost on me that I’m fast regaining my composure and feeling a little light-headed and not quite here. I guess it’s the adrenaline wearing off, and I’m beginning to calm down.
“Feelings … talking about this shit.” He follows me, gaining distance fast and a little too close to where I am, sounding exasperated with me. He hems me in with his looming presence, a little too close in my danger zone behind me and I spin on him. Still prickly enough to react when threatened by his closeness.
“That’s not what this is. It’s you annoyed because you can no longer manipulate me. And stop coming so close to me from behind, you know I can’t stand it!” I throw a raised eyebrow and ‘fuck you’ look at him and turn back to head off, but he catches my hand in his and pulls me back sharply. That warm searing touch of his skin on mine a little too familiar, and it triggers my fear response.
“Don’t fucking touch me!” I yelp in reaction and slap his hand away. Hating myself that his skin on mine stirs so many unwanted feelings and hopes. Too familiar, too inviting. I bloody hate that amid all this my body yearns for him the second he lays a finger on me. He’s the devil incarnate with his stupid charms and devious spells.
“Then stop being a pig-headed, stubborn diva and listen to what I’m fucking telling you, woman!” He barks right back with the infamous Alexi temper. Still in there after all. I literally gawp at the angry, definitely Alexi Carrero devil tone that just threw those words in my face. It’s almost laughable.
“Charming. Haven’t completely changed then have you?” I cross my arms over my chest and scowl at him with a shake of the head. Simmering with a temper on the verge of breaking loose once again. “From love to whatever that was.” I point out blatantly, waving a finger at his face, nodding my head as though to point out his tone.
Alexi looks like he might actually strangle me. There is no other way to describe his erratic expression and heavy exhale.
“Frustration! Because you are one of the hardest women to communicate with, I have ever met. Camilla, I … Love … You. No games, no motives, no fucking anything. No manipulation, or underhanded ulterior motives. I love you. And that’s it. Now stop storming around and listen to me. Believe me when I say I want you in my life. Not for money, nor sex, nor this club, but because I want you and I want to be with you!”
It’s semi-yelled at me in a harsh tone that is more befitting of him telling off one of his minions than any remorseful sweet nothing, but in that, I can tell it’s not a practised play or a mouthful of horse shit. He isn’t acting. He’s pissed that his confessions are being treated as lies, and he is trying like crazy to keep his cool while that hot Italian temper kicks off.
This is probably the most honest response I have seen in him yet. One I actually believe in.
Maybe.
I don’t know how that makes me feel. Faced with what might be the truth.
My head and heart are in chaos, and I’m so consumed with anger and pain right now as a flood of conflicting thoughts and feelings fight with one another. When it comes to this man, it’s no wonder I’m in a hell of a mess. Nothing with him is straightforward or ever has been. Staring at his face in a suspended sort of mood. Unsure what to say to that. I sigh and let my mouth run loose. It’s always been its biggest flaw.
“You had me. I stood right there … and you let me believe I was nothing.” I croak as tears return at my words, raking up memories I should leave in the past where they belong. I point to the blank part of the wall by the kitchen, with a backwards glance over my shoulder, to where I stood on that drunken fateful night. The wall marked with a tiny little indent to where my skull met it and shudder at seeing it, even though I have passed it for weeks on end without a second thought.
He really is under my skin tonight.
The night I held a gun to my head and pulled the trigger. I wanted to die because of this man, this one right here, trying to play off all of that as nothing because he now wants what I offered him back then.
My heart lets loose, pent-up tears and wracking agony as the memory of his rejection and my failed attempt to end it all floods through me, sobbing returning with a vengeance as it hits home that he isn’t lying. Alexi is telling the truth.
forgive what he did to
He cares about me.
have cared before he destroyed
hostility, guilt seeping through so that even I can recognise it, as weird as it is to see in his expression. Sombre expression, a slight frown
has regrets. The king of cruel has a conscience after all, but all it does is twist the knife
all just is too sad for
you … I said those three little words to you.” I can barely get my voice out coherently amid the gulping tears and
finally see something genuine from him,
on gazing into my tear-filled eyes. A softness to him I have seen in short moments these past few weeks and only now realise maybe they were
close, do you decide I’m worthy of something more?” It’s desperation for answers and a broken heart torn in two. The despair of a confession coming too
our kind of tragedy, even for
near me, and he relents. Stopping himself and moves away instead, to give me space, the flicker
real emotion. Who knew he was capable of such things? Capable of showing me he is
just makes the ache grow, spreading from my stomach out to every limb and even
was torn, I was lost
this is
what changed?” My voice cracks, face wet with my sadness, and I curl my arms around myself and try to give self-comfort from the internal pangs running through me. Clawing for answers to the mountain of
That night changed everything. You can’t keep lying to
with a lump in
him less likely to invade my space. He shuffles on his feet uncomfortably, looking ashen and pale for his normally tanned self,
tell me then?” My head is scrambling back in time, for the questions that plagued me for those months. The number of times I told myself
you wouldn’t try a second attempt after recovery. I never wanted you to die, or get hurt like that, and I wasn’t sure you wouldn’t do it again if I didn’t let you go.” Alexi's voice softens hugely, as do his eyes on me, and the anger that was firing between us simmers to something gentler. He moves closer slightly, pulling his hands out and I stand my ground eyeing him warily. The tension has evaporated,
reaches out and brushes it away. His touch, so unwanted yet so longed for makes me flinch at his caress, but I still don’t move away. Rooted to the spot as my heart aches for answers from him, stopping myself from closing
recent times with him. A reminder of the man who consoled me after
but I failed to see it until
as my confuddled mind tries to piece these things together. My emotions already waning from fatigue as though I just cannot take
you sleep. I told you a million times I would never let anything happen to you. Even if that meant letting you go. I mean it—I will never let anything happen
voice soft and low as he stands only inches from me, bodies apart and mirroring poses. The only touch between us is his hand lingering on my cheek and the way his breath fans my forehead and nose from his taller
just like this, a tiny pang of déjà vu and how familiar they seemed even though I couldn’t put my finger on it at the time. My memories jumbled and foggy from that night, and yet I hear his voice and those words as I struggled in the darkness. As clear as day, they run through my blank head as though confirming the truth. I hear them as though he
will never let anything happen
office when he tried to give me a gun, and in that hospital when I awoke to darkness and voices. I thought it was Mico. The stranger in the shadows who calmed me and told me they were there. That strange power they held over my racing mind and drew me
There
might die. It was him who asked if I knew he was there. I can remember it all now. My head bursting with new information which
from a new angle can
took me to get help. He
again at the thought of after what I did, he took care of me and watched over me while in my hazy state of a concussion, I was dying from a wounded heart. If I had known it was him, maybe I wouldn’t
I woke up without you.” I utter softly. Clinging
I knew I wasn’t welcome. I went and got so drunk I lost a week of my life before he came looking for me and kicked my ass back in touch. I was a mess, Cam. I couldn’t handle anything anymore, and all I did was drink myself into oblivion so I wouldn’t keep seeing you inside my
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