02-04-2019, 05:02 AM
Dizzy didn’t know how to read the look in his dark eyes, sharp and intent and not quite what she was expecting to see there, but it had always been a bit of a guessing game what kind of mood he’d be in when he showed up after being away even for a couple of days. His tempestuous unpredictability was part of what she loved about him, the way even when she thought she knew what was going on in his gorgeous head there was still a taste of danger in the way her heart raced as he drew near, a storm in his eyes as he closed the last bit of distance between them.
So careful not to touch, though, for a moment at least, just breathing her in, giving her a chance to do the same. She came alive as the scent of Dovev washed over her, eyelids lowering to half mast as just the smell of him woke her up in ways only he could. That soft smile edged toward a wicked grin as he gave in and stole a soft little touch, and she brushed her lips against the starlit spot on the corner of his mouth where she so loved to bite. Just a tiny little tease as he pulled back and settled in way too far away. Enough distance that they weren’t quite in easy touching reach, at least, which felt like a shame to her.
She sobered quickly though as the silence stretched out for a long moment, heart racing for a very different reason. This wasn’t just a visit, then. It was A Talk. Her mind flashed to the worst, stretching to fill the silence. He looked well, but the plague had struck him. Of course it had, he was so good at getting himself into trouble, how could it resist? Defy would die if Dov did, but no. Dov was too stubborn to die, or at least to let anything as small as death keep him from getting revenge on whatever killed him, whether it made sense or not. Whether it was possible or not.
So a different kind of bad, then. For one stupid moment she flashed back to fever nightmares, her pathetic, broken self begging him to love her and the way he’d pulled away in disgust, said he could never be hers. She’d wrecked herself on that look in his eyes, torn herself apart to stop feeling the disdain and the horror she’d seen in his perfect black eyes, or the way it burrowed into her newly healed skin and slowly ate away at everything she was trying so hard to put back together.
She was ruin, and when he looked at her, all he’d ever see was a burned, mangled, dying mess who couldn’t keep his son safe from the monsters of the world, and she’d failed not only herself but both of them too. No, of course, how could he ever want--but that was all so fucking stupid, and irrational, and she wasn’t going to let that flaming asshole win, not even in her head where no one could hear it but her. He didn’t get to win. He didn’t get to control her, not even the race of her heart or the frantic whirl of thoughts through her mind. Her nameless attacker didn’t get to take her future the way he’d sunk his claws into her skin.
He could go die in his own fire before he got to take the rest of her life. Maybe he owned a few horrible moments of it, but he didn’t get the rest of it. Or at least that was what she liked to tell herself, even when it felt like a bald-faced lie.
She could understand though, if Dov looked at her and couldn’t see beyond the wreck she’d been. Some days it was all she could do to pretend she’d gotten past it herself. But she could close her eyes and imagine Dov touching her imagine his lips on her skin, his teeth nipping with delicious insistence, her body always so damn responsive to his touch, even the thought of him enough to make her ache with need. Until she imagined the weight of a body on her back, a grip on her hips, and fire swept through her, sending her into a panic. Her skin remembered the searing agony, no matter how she tried to forget. Her body remembered the horror, and even an imagined touch was enough to leave her senseless with fear.
She couldn’t blame him if he couldn’t see past it either.
Maybe it was no more than she deserved after the way she’d broken Zor’s heart.
She knew she was being stupid and irrational, even moreso when he finally opened his mouth and let the words out. Words that stabbed their way through her heart like swords, making her glad she’d closed her eyes and focused on her breathing again, trying to keep steady and pretend she hadn’t managed to think herself to the edge of another panic attack. Just keep breathing. Let the pain of those words wash over you, flow through you. Wasn’t so hard, not really. She’d gotten so used to breathing through the agony, what was one more kind? So he’d fucked other women. Maybe loved other women. He’d told her a long time ago he didn’t think she had what it took to give him everything. She had no reason to expect him to spend all this time celibate. He hadn’t expected it of her, hadn’t thought she was capable of it, had told her to go fix things with Zor. Had all but told her to fuck him.
It took her a stupid long time to open her eyes, so damn determined she wouldn’t cry. “Okay,” she said softly, before she quite managed it. Her voice shook, and she swallowed hard, fighting to steady its traitorous tremor. “I...don’t really know what to say. I...guess you had no reason not to--” She cut off, still not sure how to step forward in a moment that felt so fragile. Like the world was all but crashing down around her and all it would take was one wrong word to bring it all tumbling down. “You said yourself you didn’t think I could--so I guess...I guess that makes sense.” Funny, she’d never thought sense could hurt so damn much, like gasping for air and watching herself bleed out on the ground at his feet while he watched with those wary black eyes waiting to see if she’d…blame him.
“What now?” she asked softly, meeting those eyes. “Maybe I had no right to expect anything, not with where we left things before…” Before he’d disappeared. “But obviously a lot has changed since then. So...where do we stand now?” Do you even want me anymore? Is that why you stayed away so long? I-- But curling up in a ball of desperate, sobbing insecurity wouldn’t help, wouldn’t change anything, wouldn’t give either of them any answers. So she did her goddamn best to hold herself together, and fuck if she hadn’t gotten halfway decent at pretending she wasn’t dying inside in the last year or so. She cursed the way her voice still shook, the way her jaw clenched against the ache in her throat, the way tears crept slowly into her eyes, threatening to fall even as she dug in stubborn, frantic heels and held on tight to what dignity she could pull together.
She wouldn’t beg. She wouldn’t be her mother. If he didn’t want her, didn’t want the home she’d promised him over a year ago now, didn’t want a broken, patchwork mess with a tattered, aching heart and disaster written in her soul, well then she’d do what she’d been doing since the day Defy was born. Survive. For that little boy, if nothing else. For him and the girls. She’d gotten damn good at breathing even when parts of her begged her to quit. So if it was her heart this time, well, what was one more broken piece?
So careful not to touch, though, for a moment at least, just breathing her in, giving her a chance to do the same. She came alive as the scent of Dovev washed over her, eyelids lowering to half mast as just the smell of him woke her up in ways only he could. That soft smile edged toward a wicked grin as he gave in and stole a soft little touch, and she brushed her lips against the starlit spot on the corner of his mouth where she so loved to bite. Just a tiny little tease as he pulled back and settled in way too far away. Enough distance that they weren’t quite in easy touching reach, at least, which felt like a shame to her.
She sobered quickly though as the silence stretched out for a long moment, heart racing for a very different reason. This wasn’t just a visit, then. It was A Talk. Her mind flashed to the worst, stretching to fill the silence. He looked well, but the plague had struck him. Of course it had, he was so good at getting himself into trouble, how could it resist? Defy would die if Dov did, but no. Dov was too stubborn to die, or at least to let anything as small as death keep him from getting revenge on whatever killed him, whether it made sense or not. Whether it was possible or not.
So a different kind of bad, then. For one stupid moment she flashed back to fever nightmares, her pathetic, broken self begging him to love her and the way he’d pulled away in disgust, said he could never be hers. She’d wrecked herself on that look in his eyes, torn herself apart to stop feeling the disdain and the horror she’d seen in his perfect black eyes, or the way it burrowed into her newly healed skin and slowly ate away at everything she was trying so hard to put back together.
She was ruin, and when he looked at her, all he’d ever see was a burned, mangled, dying mess who couldn’t keep his son safe from the monsters of the world, and she’d failed not only herself but both of them too. No, of course, how could he ever want--but that was all so fucking stupid, and irrational, and she wasn’t going to let that flaming asshole win, not even in her head where no one could hear it but her. He didn’t get to win. He didn’t get to control her, not even the race of her heart or the frantic whirl of thoughts through her mind. Her nameless attacker didn’t get to take her future the way he’d sunk his claws into her skin.
He could go die in his own fire before he got to take the rest of her life. Maybe he owned a few horrible moments of it, but he didn’t get the rest of it. Or at least that was what she liked to tell herself, even when it felt like a bald-faced lie.
She could understand though, if Dov looked at her and couldn’t see beyond the wreck she’d been. Some days it was all she could do to pretend she’d gotten past it herself. But she could close her eyes and imagine Dov touching her imagine his lips on her skin, his teeth nipping with delicious insistence, her body always so damn responsive to his touch, even the thought of him enough to make her ache with need. Until she imagined the weight of a body on her back, a grip on her hips, and fire swept through her, sending her into a panic. Her skin remembered the searing agony, no matter how she tried to forget. Her body remembered the horror, and even an imagined touch was enough to leave her senseless with fear.
She couldn’t blame him if he couldn’t see past it either.
Maybe it was no more than she deserved after the way she’d broken Zor’s heart.
She knew she was being stupid and irrational, even moreso when he finally opened his mouth and let the words out. Words that stabbed their way through her heart like swords, making her glad she’d closed her eyes and focused on her breathing again, trying to keep steady and pretend she hadn’t managed to think herself to the edge of another panic attack. Just keep breathing. Let the pain of those words wash over you, flow through you. Wasn’t so hard, not really. She’d gotten so used to breathing through the agony, what was one more kind? So he’d fucked other women. Maybe loved other women. He’d told her a long time ago he didn’t think she had what it took to give him everything. She had no reason to expect him to spend all this time celibate. He hadn’t expected it of her, hadn’t thought she was capable of it, had told her to go fix things with Zor. Had all but told her to fuck him.
It took her a stupid long time to open her eyes, so damn determined she wouldn’t cry. “Okay,” she said softly, before she quite managed it. Her voice shook, and she swallowed hard, fighting to steady its traitorous tremor. “I...don’t really know what to say. I...guess you had no reason not to--” She cut off, still not sure how to step forward in a moment that felt so fragile. Like the world was all but crashing down around her and all it would take was one wrong word to bring it all tumbling down. “You said yourself you didn’t think I could--so I guess...I guess that makes sense.” Funny, she’d never thought sense could hurt so damn much, like gasping for air and watching herself bleed out on the ground at his feet while he watched with those wary black eyes waiting to see if she’d…blame him.
“What now?” she asked softly, meeting those eyes. “Maybe I had no right to expect anything, not with where we left things before…” Before he’d disappeared. “But obviously a lot has changed since then. So...where do we stand now?” Do you even want me anymore? Is that why you stayed away so long? I-- But curling up in a ball of desperate, sobbing insecurity wouldn’t help, wouldn’t change anything, wouldn’t give either of them any answers. So she did her goddamn best to hold herself together, and fuck if she hadn’t gotten halfway decent at pretending she wasn’t dying inside in the last year or so. She cursed the way her voice still shook, the way her jaw clenched against the ache in her throat, the way tears crept slowly into her eyes, threatening to fall even as she dug in stubborn, frantic heels and held on tight to what dignity she could pull together.
She wouldn’t beg. She wouldn’t be her mother. If he didn’t want her, didn’t want the home she’d promised him over a year ago now, didn’t want a broken, patchwork mess with a tattered, aching heart and disaster written in her soul, well then she’d do what she’d been doing since the day Defy was born. Survive. For that little boy, if nothing else. For him and the girls. She’d gotten damn good at breathing even when parts of her begged her to quit. So if it was her heart this time, well, what was one more broken piece?