“They miss their families, their partners, their lives before I stole it from them.” I strolled around her, keeping my voice level and cool. “They are still prisoners, forced to fuck strangers, given a drug that makes their lust work against them, all while I bleed them of everything they are.”
She shivered as I ran my fingers through her hair, catching on delicate tangles caused by the boat ride. “All while I bleed you dry…”
She gasped as I kissed behind her ear. “The thing is, Eleanor Grace, I don’t care. I don’t care about them. I don’t care that others feel their captivity is cruel and unjustified. I told you when you first arrived that humans are not special. We cannot have two sets of rules: one for animals who we cage and slaughter, and one for us. We cannot bemoan the state of imprisonment and the act of making others do something against their will. Not when we’ve been forcing creatures into enslavement for millennia.”
She tried to spin to face me, but I grabbed her nape, holding her trapped before me. I didn’t squeeze hard, extremely aware of what her throat had endured, but I didn’t let her look at me. This I had to say without forgiveness already shining in her silver-coloured eyes.
“Their actions are entirely my fault. I’m the reason they felt threatened by you. I’m the reason they pinned romantic ideals and stupid hope on the possibility of my saving them. I was the one who took their happiness away. Therefore, they despised me. But I was also the one who could set them free. Therefore, they worshiped me. That constant mix of want and hate turned normal women into scrambled, vindictive shrews who convinced themselves that you were the enemy…not me. You were the reason for all of it because only you caught my attention and only you were special.”
I ran my nose along her shoulder, inhaling the rich scent of orchid, sunshine, and salt. My very island had claimed her as its own, tainting her skin with every scent I adored. “And that’s the crux of the problem, Jinx…you are special. I have no way of denying that. I can lie and say you aren’t, but ultimately, we both know you’re special…to me. Which means, all my laws on equality and humanitarian requirements are total shit because how can I put you first…over them?”
She trembled again as I let her nape go, permitting her to turn to face me. Thoughts shadowed her features like dismembered ghosts, half-formed and discarded before she finally whispered, “You don’t have to see such things in black and white, Sully.”
I raised an eyebrow. “No? How would you see it?”
She shrugged. “Biology. Simple biology.” When I didn’t respond, she added, “Just like I get wet and you get hard from a physical or mental stimulation, the heart suffers the same downfalls.”
“You’re saying what I feel for you…is purely reactionary?”
Her eyelashes fluttered. “What do you feel for me? I asked you on Serigala, and I’m asking you now.”
I snorted and leaned into her, mixing our body heat and suffering the hiss and spark of awareness. “An epidemic over everything that I am. That is what I feel for you. A sickness I can’t find a cure for.”
“Maybe the cure is easier than you think.”
“You think we can reverse this…disease, now that we’ve accepted the diagnosis?”
“I think lying about it won’t stop the truth.”
I stiffened. “You’re calling me a liar?”
She nodded. “Utterly pathological when it comes to avoiding things you don’t want to confess.”
A groan slipped from my lips, fertilising the ground with all the bullshit I’d been trying to shove into my heart and believe. “Stop. Just stop—”
“Stop forcing you to admit that common-sense says we’re absolutely stupid but we’re past listening to that nonsense?”
“Stop being everything I fucking want…without even knowing it.” I raked a hand through my hair, my temper spiking. “Stop making this impossible for me.”
I thought this infatuation would cease as abruptly as it’d begun. I figured, the more I got to know her, the more I would be turned off. I’d convinced myself that whatever bond we shared would diminish, because there was no other way forward for me.
I wasn’t planning on discovering that with each conversation, with each new touch, kiss, and whisper that I’d struggle all the more.
My infatuation had swiftly become fascination and could quickly mutate into obsession if I wasn’t careful.
I meant what I said in Dr Campbell’s surgery.
“Why are you so perfect…for me?”
How could a girl who’d been born to different parents, raised in a different household, and experienced different things, somehow end up the perfect shape and size to fit into my jagged, haggard edges?
My dream fantasy couldn’t even compare to her anymore. That hallucination had been based purely on looks I found madly attractive. Now, Eleanor was the very utopia I’d tried to create on my cursed islands. She was bottled elixir and the magic of Euphoria…a fantasy manifested into reality.