20

20
It’s a dreamless sleep. Dark but not cold. When my eyes open, she’s sitting up, her arms wrapped around her legs, head resting on her knees.

She’s dressed, showered, her braids forming a pool at her feet. She smiles softly at the sight of my eyes.

“Hey there, big guy. You finally stayed the night. Was it worth it?”

I smirk, brush my knuckles against her face. “Yeah.”

“Good,” she knocks my hand away. “Now get the hell out.”

I can’t help but let a laugh rip through me. “You’re so cold hearted. Nothing like the soft, cute woman you were last night. Where did she go?”

I lift her chin. “I have to fuck her out of you, don’t I?”

She stares at me for a while. I don’t break eye contact. There’s a conversation happening between us, I can’t comprehend the exchange, I don’t speak the language of her eyes or mine.

“You know we’ve been playing this game for a while now. What, a year and some change?” She says finally with a hefty sigh, she rests her hand in her palm. “How does it end?”

“…End?” 

She scoffs. “You didn’t think it would end? You coming every night, leaving before sunset. You would’ve never grown tired of it?”

I look away, the sun is shining so brightly. Then I look back at her. It cloaks her, warm, bright—beautiful. Now I see why she never let me stay. She’s too radiant in daytime. It’s irrestisble.

“What are you asking me?” 

The question comes out hoarse, though I don’t mean it to.

“I’m asking you how you want this to end? Now? When I get married? When you do? When I get bored? When?”

I lick my lips. “When do you want it to end?”

“You look so angry right now, Dawson.”

My eyes widen. Do I? I whip my head around, catch glimpse of me in the mirror. Brows furrowed, teeth gnashed together, the twitching of my eyes. 

That look. That fucking look in them.

I close my eyes and look away. “I’m sorry.”

A soft warm touch, cradles my face, I lean into it. 

“Don’t be sorry. Your anger…I’m not afraid of it.”

I grab her wrist, keep her steady. “That’s because you’ve never seen it,” I whisper. “When do I want it to end? I don’t.”

“…Then?” She asks softly. I kiss her palm. “What do you want?”

The words spill from my mouth, so foreign but so spirited.

“I want you to love me.”

Where did that…? I keep my eyes closed, can’t bear to see those ridiculing eyes. 

“Okay.”

“Okay?” I open my eyes. 

She meets mine, the sun illuminating her, like an angel, like a heaven sent deliverance, the warm amber in her eyes awakening in the sun’s rays.

“Okay,” she smiles softy. Her thumb strokes my cheek. She’s filling me with the light shining from her, scattering the darkness in my soul, banishing it to the outskirts of my mind. 

“I work a lot,” I ramble, “And I can be devoted to you. I’m like a dog to a bone. But…but all of my devotion turns violent. I can’t help it.”

Her hand leaves me. It stings, but I let her. It’s better this way—

“It’s okay, Dawson. It’s okay.” Her arms wrap around me, surrounding me in her.

For a minute I believe her. I tuck my face into her neck, feel her hold me, somehow her softness is stronger than all the pain, all the violence.

“There’s a lot of hate in my heart. Darkness…”

“You want me to love you?” She whispers in my ear, tucking my hair back. 

I nod softly. 

“I got nothing better to do. I wouldn’t mind loving a brute like you, hm? I came all this way…because nothing changed. So…I’ll change something. I’ll invest in you. I’ll love you. Let’s see what it changes.”

We don’t move. I just sit in vanilla, in her, too afraid to move, to mess this up.

“Dawson?”

“…Kyro. My middle name is Kyro. People close to me use it. Will…”

“Kyro,” she hugs me again, gives a squeeze. “That’s a lovely name. Thanks for sharing it.”

I chuckle, but it’s somehow wet with tears I can’t shed. “Hey, when did you become so…nice? Weren’t you a ruthless, cutthroat woman?”

Red hums and nods. “Yes. But that me is for hookups. For people I don’t care about. But since you begged me to love you—”

“I didn’t beg—”

She chuckles. “Then I will. I’m still sharp around the edges…but I’m much softer with those I love.”

Soft. She’s so soft. She was always softer. There’s more? Won’t I lose myself in it? Can I go back to death, to blood, to savagery after this warmth?

“Kyro, look at me. Come on, look at me.” 

I asked for this but I don’t think I can handle it. It’s not something I know how to hold. My hands are not built for things this delicate. 

I can hold a knife, a gun, I can use everything to hurt anyone and anything. And sure I can charm, and manipulate and fuck.

But love?

“I’m loyal. I can be loyal. I…I’m good at that.” 

“You don’t have to rationalize yourself to me. I’m gonna see who you are for myself. Now…get up, and get dressed because you still don’t live here.”

I chuckle, and nod. “Okay. Okay I will.”

“Leave your number.”

I nod. “Before I go…will you hum me that song? From your nightmare?”

She doesn’t respond. She just does. It calms me, this song from a nightmare, somehow the most soothing thing I’ve ever heard.