“You wish.”
“Then why did you follow me all the way over here?”
“Papa called and said he made reservations for dinner. Derek will pick us up.”
“Message received. Go back to Aiden.”
She scowls, but she doesn’t make a move to leave. “Are you still smoking that death stick?”
I blow the smoke in her face, making it scrunch. “Obviously.”
“You’re a bastard.”
“If you keep complimenting me this often, I’ll think you have a fixation on me.”
“In your dreams.”
“You don’t want to know what’s in my dreams.”
“We agree on that.” She stretches her hand. “Give me your phone, I need to make a call to Derek. My battery died.”
“What do I get in return?”
“My begrudged thank you.”
I smirk as I retrieve my phone and unlock it. Silver makes her call, glaring at me the entire time. Once she finishes, she’s about to return it, but then she focuses back on the screen.
She must’ve touched a button. Her cheeks heat as her eyes widen and that look returns. The look from eight years ago.
It’s the fucking same.
I’ve seen hints of it, but never this identical awe.
“W-what the hell is this?” She thrusts the phone into my face.
It’s an image of Hope bound to a chair, half-naked, and giving me a seductive look. “Hope. She’s a senior.”
“I know it’s Hope, b-but w-why is she tied like that?”
“Because she likes it.” My voice lowers as I blow another cloud of smoke in her direction. “And I like it too.”
Silver’s face doesn’t even scrunch at the smoke. It’s caught in that eternal awe-filled look. Or maybe it’s fear?
Her blue eyes darken and her throat works up and down with a gulp.
“You’re…sick,” she breathes out, even as her cheeks redden under the moon.
Silver throws the phone in my hand, turns around, and marches out as if her heels are on fire.
Sick.
Maybe. Probably.
And part of my sickness is her. My Butterfly.
My chaos.
11