MAD

chxpter 25

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EXTRA BIG SEXUAL CONTENT WARNING - 18+
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...

I tug the towel tighter as I open the door, my heart squeezing. Part of me panics at the idea he might not be on the other side, but logic wins out when I lay eyes on his sprawling figure stretched across the mattress. A pair of basketball shorts sit low on his hips, revealing a large rectangle of blank ink tattooed into his muscular thigh. It's masculine and rigid, but if anything, it enunciates his perfect physique because of its striking simplicity. 

Reid rests his head back, a dull glare on his face as though he's somehow simultaneously trapped in thought and unable to think of anything that might be valuable. His bare torso rises and falls stiffly, the ridges of his abdomen etching deeper for every exhalation. My phone lies beside his hand, pointing to the fact that he probably trawled every inch of my viper account. He would've seen the Quote reports on every job I've ever taken, seen the assets I own, my bank account, my trading portfolio. Fuck. Next, he'll figure out I have illegal tech in my eye.

My heart pinches in my chest, like a nauseating heartburn. He won't live that long.

I approach the wardrobe cast in moonlight, avoiding looking at him. We don' say anything as I pick through my options, but the air is so thick with him that it's stifling. Like I might choke under the weight of his presence.

I tug a thong on under my towel, unable to care that he might see, "Can I have my phone?" I mumble. 

Silence pervades, and my heart clenches. 

What, so he's gon' ignore me? 

The quiet is interrupted by the shifting of covers as Reid lifts himself. His towering form interrupts the moon shine, projecting a shadow over me. I expect it to pass, for him to place the device beside me and leave, but then his hands take hold of my waist tentatively. 

I inhale slightly. 

Silence. 

Despite everything we said, the ache in my chest eases from his contact. I hate it.

He shrouds in, and I can feel his presence like you can feel a fire at your back. But it comforts me. Terribly, it satiates a craving. Reid laces his arms around me, tentatively, "please, Vi," he whispers. I will myself to resist his bid for peace, but I can't. I sink backward, my body softening for the relief that fills me. My back connects with the warmth of his chest. His heart thuds against me, like despite his steely exterior, his body is spinning tread with the stress that's consuming him. It makes me still, slaps me with a humiliating dose of empathy, because he's probably sick with panic. Just because life has taught him to conceal weakness doesn't mean he don' feel.

My bottom lip trembles but the burn of tears freaks me out so much that I grit my teeth and force myself to straighten. We stand like that for a long moment, but eventually, I look to the side with a prickly expression, prompting him to talk.

"I can't give you what you want," He croaks, his emotions laid bare. Regret. Anger, and pain. I swallow, my jaw burning with the ache of tears. He rests his cheek against my wet hair, my skin tingling with his proximity, "I don' have time to give you everything, and I'm not letting my last decision be to wrap you up in the same shit that's gon' get me snapped." He whispers. 

My heart flips at his admission. Everything. The intimacy of his meaning makes any word that I could use utterly futile. Give everything. Like, he sees love as falling at someone's knees... his whole life, he's been a caregiver. His mother, his sister, Cola. Tears floodas my eyes, and my vision blurs but I inhale evenly, closing them. "Give me...?" I croak.