Chapter Thirty-Five

Today is awful, I think if I were to die today, it'd make everything significantly better, at least for the moment.

I pace in front of the closed door of the guest bedroom. I want to wake Mirea, as she was so terribly adamant on sleeping by herself last night. I want to wake her and tell her to pay attention to me because my attention seems to be all over the place today, more-so than usual, and I can't breathe because I keep thinking about my lungs, and also about how, if I were to stab myself, how long would I be able to run before I inevitably die.

And then I think, wanting attention is childish, and I'm twenty-three years old.

But then, I'm the Bone Cutter and I thrive off attention.

But I'm not really thriving, not really.

I frown, perhaps I should go for a walk. Walking is so boring, I should run, but running is tiring, and I already can't breathe.

I lean against the door and I look at the light on the ceiling and I contemplate how many millimeters precisely is it from the floor to the light, and then I wonder if I can measure those millimeters with my fingers, but I don't know why I'd do that, why the hell would I do that?

The truth is, my mind has been more active than usual. The few days that Mirea had cruelly left me were the worst days I've had in years. For three days I was stuck in my head, thinking about anything and everything and it was all happening so fast that time seemed to slow and I can't remember anything I thought about except that I wished Mirea were there to ground me because I couldn't find the ground.

Those three days I was brought back to my middle-school days where I'd beg my fellow students to punch me, and they'd enjoy it, because how many times does one get the chance to hurt a rich kid?

Thinking about it, it was though I could feel each individual bruise, as I remembered how I'd limp around the school halls, and nobody knew that I was suffering because I was too stuck up in my own head to ask for help.

I pull myself off the door and begin to walk down the hall. I decided I won't wake Mirea, because I don't need her, and I'm fine, and I need to get over myself because I'm absolutely not going to take medication.

I get halfway down the hall, and find myself turning on my heel, and returning to the guest bedroom where I gather the dignity -or lack thereof- to open the door, and slip in.

I see her asleep so lovely, and so ugly, and I adore her, because she's lovely, and her lovely makes her ugly, because most lovely people are always ugly inside.

I climb into the bed with her and press my body against her. She barely stirs, as she says, "Get out."

I ignore her, because I don't want to be alone anymore, it's terribly boring, and not good for me.

Leech is laying under the blankets, and he curls up beside me, and I hate it, but Mirea seems to love the creature, so I bare it.

I dig my face in the crevice of her neck, and she groans, and I'm not sure if she likes it, or if she's irritated with me, but I would assume the latter.

"Wake up for me." I tell her, though I'm comfortable in this position.

"No."

"I'm bored."

"I don't care."

"Cruel."

"Shut up." She tries to inch away from me, but I now have my arm around her waist keeping her against me, and eventually she stops trying to move, and I'm relieved.

After a moment of both of us being silent, and when I'm think she has fallen back asleep, she surprises me by speaking up, "You're hot, and the warmth is suffocating."

I grin into her neck, "I'm flattered you think so."

I feel her exhale in sheer annoyance, "Seriously, get out."

I pull her tightly against me, "No."

She lifts her head up and looks at me, exuastion still fresh in her eyes, "Why are you so awful?"

"Good morning to you too."

She groans, "What time is it anyway?"

"I'm not sure, anywhere between five in the morning, to ten."

She doesn't look amused, as she turns over and attempts to read the clock on the nightstand. "Oh my god, Inanis it's six, why the fuck are you waking me up at six in the morning?"

I do not believe it is healthy that I feel as though I can finally breathe when she yells at me, but that is precisely how I feel. "You really are a darling in the morning, aren't you?"

"Get. Out." She kicks me away, hard, and it hurts, but the hurt is exhilarating, and I want her to do it again, but I don't ask.

"And what do you expect me to do all alone at this ungodly hour?"

"You're an adult, I think you can figure that out."

Oh, but I can't. "Then I choose to be with you."

I hear her huff, and I wonder if she's going to hit me, or worse, leave, but she doesn't. She stays quiet, and I carefully pull my arm around her waist once more and pull her against me, and neither of us say anything at all.

I feel her heartbeat, and her soft breathing, and I focus on matching my breathing to hers, and I focus so intently on it that nothing else matters until I realize I had fallen asleep.

I'm awoken by Leech jumping on top of me, and I realize that Mirea is sitting up now, and the sun is now bleeding through the curtains.

I look over and the clock reads 11:08.

I cannot remember the last time I have slept in this long.

I sit up, and I can feel Mirea's eyes on me as I lift the dog off body and push him onto her.

She doesn't say anything for a moment, and I'm still trying to recollect how I fell asleep in the first place. Finally, she speaks up, "You're not so bad when you're asleep, you know."

"I'll keep that in mind." I run a hand through my hair, reminders of how I felt earlier all coming back.

I watch her get out of bed and make her way to the closet, where she begins to pull out clothes to wear, and I realize she's not telling me to get out as she begins to take her clothes off.

She has gotten dressed in front of me before, but it still catches me off guard, as I forget she is my wife and has no problem with me seeing her naked.

Or, if she does, she doesn't voice it.

I clear my voice, partly because I just woke up, and partly because I'm not sure if I should even be here, watching her, but that does not stop me because she is ravishing, and I want to touch her more than anything else. Instead, I find myself saying, "You're looking pale. You should get some sun."

She shoots me a look, daring me to comment further, so naturally, I do, "Also, have you thought about dying your hair? You'd make a very bitchy blonde. It'd be quite becoming on you."

"Inanis."

"Yes, love?"

"Shut up."

I do, but only for a moment, as I watch her pull on a navy-blue collared shirt, with very tight jeans that annoy me, because she's perfectly fine without them.

Before I even realize what I'm doing, I'm standing beside her, and I wish she didn't have clothes on, because my mind is burdened with all the nasty things I want to do to her, but as we stare at each other, and my arms reach in front of me, and grip her waist, pulling her into my hold. I want to kiss her so passionately, but so eagerly, too.

And then, I'm suddenly looking at the door, and noticing each crevice in the painted wood that I don't even remember being there before. Then I'm looking at Leech who is trying to pull up the carpet, but it won't budge, and I wonder what it's like to kill a puppy, and I wonder if I'd ever do such a thing in my lifetime.

Aggravation flares within me, and I push myself away from her when I realize what I was doing. Yet again, my attention betrays me, and I hate myself because I can't even focus on the one thing that seems to bring me joy. "Fuck." I mutter to myself, pressing my back up against the wall, all too aware of Mirea's eyes on me.

"Inanis?"

"Don't." I hold a hand out, "I don't want to hear it. I'm not going to take the medication."

She knows what happened, I know she knows because I could see the thin exception of pity in her eyes, and I hate it more than I hate myself.

Deciding I can't stand the way she's looking at me, I make a move to brush past her, but she grips my arm so tightly, it brings me to my senses, and I'm looking wholly on her, and just like that she forces her lips on my own. I can't breathe but in the most exciting way.

I want to taste ever inch of her, I want to spend the entire day in this tiny room, on the even tinier bed, but something stops me.

My own self-doubt begins to eat at me, all the voices telling me she's only kissing me because she pities me, and suddenly I hate her too. I'm reminded of her trying to make me choose between The Bone Cutter, and Inanis.

I forgotten I need to keep my guard up. I can't let her sway me away from what I do best. I am no more Inanis as I am the nation's best Bone Cutter.

I push her away once more, and this time she doesn't try to grab me as I move past her. I leave the room without a word, and ignore the look of hurt that stuck on her face as I left.