He sitson my bed with his legs bent and spread wide. His hands fold behind his head, and he watches me intently. Malace is getting rather comfortable living in my life now. He even beat me back to my own bedroom. I close the door and fold my arms as I peer at the beautifully tragic-looking man.
“Are you dead?” I ask finally.
He’s a ghost, right? He has to be.
“Don’t know,” he says with that same carelessness he always has.
“How did you come to the Kingdom of Carnal?”
“I’ve always been here.”
“Since when? Since you were a boy?”
He pauses then, his crimson eyes looking into the distance like he’s considering this question more in depth.
“Yes. I remember Carnal even when I was a boy.”
“Could people see you then?”
Another considering pause. Then a nod. “Definitely.”
“When did that stop?”
“Don’t know,” he says again with that same vague carelessness, and it physically pulls a sigh from my lungs. I can’t exhaust myself on this man’s mysteries when I have so many other things on my plate right now.
The door opens then. The hinges squeal just as Malace says one more thing.
“Do you know about the other men stalking you?”
My eyes widen and lock on him, but someone else calls out to me.
I’m sorry, what? Whatthe fuck, actually?
“Bellatrix! Oh my god, I have so much to tell you!” Ivy says with so much excitement. The familiar way she says it slams into me with warmth that sears all through my heart.
In this moment, we’re sisters again.
“Tell me everything!” I smile.
She bounces down on her bed, and I suddenly realize there’s a man on my bed. A man only I can see. And I’m standing in the middle of the tiny room like a fucking weirdo.
I think about curling up on her bed with her like I would have done at home, but that’s not the thing to do with a girl who thinks she’s only known me for two days.
Stiffly, I walk to my bed. I sit at the very edge of my mattress, my ramrod-straight spine nearly brushing Malace’s invisible thigh.
I don’t look at him. Rule number one of not being a crazy bitch: don’t acknowledge drop-dead sexy men who may or may not be ghosts.
“Oh, you have got to settle in for this! Get comfy!” Her smile is blooming, and I can physically feel my tension making this awkward.
“For sure,” I say rigidly, but I move ever so slowly.
I look back at him, and his smirking eyes are watching me intently.
“Please. By all means,get comfy.” He spreads his arms wide like an arrogant asshole.
Just when I think I’m at max capacity for asshole men in my life, one more shows up.
With jarring movements, I crawl tactfully over his legs and try to find enough room to lean against the wall. But halfway through, he grips my arm and throws me down against him. A strange little squee slips from my lips, and every single muscle in my body is tense as I lean against Malace/my pillow. The feel of our bodies touching is an electric charge. All this energy is pent up inside of him and I’m the first person to feel it seems.