Page 109 of A Beautiful Crime
I know who I’m meant to be. Who I’ve always been.
A change happens in the air. A charge.
As my blood hums through my veins and my skin prickles with goosebumps I know who it is without having to see him.
My body is aware of him even before I am.
It’s as if we are one of those whispered twins, souls tied to one another and can speak without words.
And when my eyes meet his, the charge in the air sparks.
But the spark fizzles when I take in the amount of blood soaking his shirt, his disheveled appearance, and the busted knuckles.
My chest tightens.
I find myself closing the distance between us. Walking to him with hurried legs to assess the damage. My heart beats at an accelerated pace, an irregular rhythm as I halt to stand before him.
What is this feeling? Why does my heart feel like it’s going to burst out of my chest?
And then it hits me.
I’m worried.
Concerned.
Afraid.
I’m all of these feelings at once. Worried about his well-being. Concerned about his wounds. Afraid of the amount of blood that his wounds could prove to be fatal.
Reacting to my emotions I gently place his hand in my own, raising it to eye level to inspect it closely.
Knuckles that have grazed my cheeks with such tenderness are busted wide open.
My heart flares with pain.
“You’re injured.” My voice comes out as barely a whisper.
I hear his deep inhale of breath and I feel it fan against my face as he exhales. It’s the closest we’ve been to one another in nearly two weeks. And while my body is rejoicing in our nearness my heart is hurting from the mental barriers placed between us.
“Don’t act as if you care, Carina.” The way I have longed for him to say my name and now it’s spoken with disdain. “Don’t wound me just because you know you are the only one who can.” He slips his hand out of mine and I ache at the loss of contact.
I swallow thickly. Although it doesn’t pain me any less his behavior is warranted. He doesn’t know how my feelings towards him have changed.
I go to open my mouth but he silences me with a harsh look. “And I don’t want to hear another lie. They’ve lost their beauty. You’ve lost me.”
Splintering.
My heart that beats only ever for him splinters.
As he turns and begins to walk away the panicky feeling returns tenfold. The only thing I know for certain is I must stop him before I lose him for good.
Wetting my lips I then boldly ask, “And what must I do to have you again?” He stops in his tracks, his back before me tense. “What must it be to have your affection once again?”
The silence is deafening. And I wait each dreadful second with my hope dwindling.
Then he turns towards me. With the scathing look upon his face I wish he hadn’t. “What games are you playing, Carina? What are you trying to accomplish? To desecrate me?”
“No.” My voice is trembling. Clenching my hands in fists I steel my spine and say more confidently, “I don’t wish for that.”
