Thirty-Two
Peter drives me home and tucks me into bed.
“Will you stay?” I'm reluctant to lose skin contact with him.
“I will always stay. I could not leave, even if I wanted to,” he says, pushing my hair out of my eyes.
“I know, but you don't have to stay on the roof. You can read my books if you want.” I'm caught between wanting him to stay and wanting him to go so he won't start caring more than he already does about me. I'm freaked out and scared and I care more about feeling safe than anything right now. I'll worry about the love thing tomorrow.
“I will stay.”
“Good.” Despite the insane night, and the almost dying part, I yawn. “You still have my book.”
“I know. I will return it to you.”
“I don't care, you can keep it.”
“I'll return it.” He turns his back on my bookshelves. My hands twist around the covers with desire to pull him toward me. To hold onto him like a life preserver.
“You should get to sleep.”
“I know.” I sit up, watching him. Wondering what he's thinking. “How do you feel?”
He thinks a moment before he answers.
“Free.”
“But you still have the promise.” I want to call it a curse, but refrain.
“It doesn't matter.” I sling my feet over the side of the bed.
“It does,” I say, starting to stand up. I can't take being on the other side of the room from him.
“You are safe. That is what matters.”
“What if you... fall for me.”
“Then I will cease to exist.” The way he says it triggers a memory of something he said before. Oh. OH.
“That's what you want. You told me that when I first met you.”
Blink.
I pull away from him, stung. The pain of the night crashes on me, as if the adrenaline that had kept it at bay shuts off like a dripping tap.
I survey my body. The worst is my hands and forearms. My legs were encased in jeans that are torn here and there, but otherwise I'm fine.
“Ava.”
“I should wash up.” Tears threaten to spill over again if I look at him any more. I dash to the bathroom and turn on the water.
“Ava, things are complicated.”
“No shit,” I say looking at my face in the mirror. There are a few scrapes, but nothing major. Nothing make-up can't cover.
“It's okay Peter. I just got confused and thought something else. It's fine. You can go fly if you want.”
“I want to be with you.”
“Then why do you want to kill yourself?” I spin around, my hip smacking against the sink. What's a little more pain?
“I am already dead. My soul is gone. Yours is intact. When you die, your soul will continue to exist. Whether that be in another place or in another body, I don't know. You will always exist because your soul belongs to you. I gave mine away. When this existence ends, I will end.”
“I don't want you to end.” My voice chokes on tears.
“I know. Strange that the only person who could end me is the only one I want to stay with.” I look up, startled. What?
“You want to stay with me?”
“Of course.” His head goes to the side and I want to kiss him so much it hurts. “How could you think otherwise?”
“I don't know.” I lean against him, pushing my head into his chest. His arms go around me, pulling me closer.
“Let's get you cleaned up.”
“Okay.”
I sit on the tub as Peter bathes my cuts and scrapes with alcohol. It stings, and I bite my lip so I don't make a sound.
“This doesn't bother you, does it?”
“No. The blood is dried. The life has left it.”
“Oh.”
I don't talk about the elephant in the room. Di. We both know if she wants to keep him, and get rid of me, she's going to poke a hole through that promise. There are always loopholes. I know enough by being the daughter of a loan officer.
I don't want to think about that tonight. I don't want to think about how Ivan teamed up with Peter and Viktor and protected me. I don't want to think about explaining the scrapes and how tired I'm going to be and how behind I am in school and how I'm going to have to tell my mother about Peter. I can't keep it from her any longer.
Once I'm covered in antibiotic cream and an entire box of band-aids, I get back into bed. Peter sits beside me, almost nervous-like.
“Come here,” I say. He leans over. I rake my hands in his hair, pulling it away from his face.
“Are you going to kiss me?”
“If you want.”
I blink at him. He smiles.
“I will take that as yes,” he says.
Yes.