Infatuation

I knew more about her for never having spoken to her. We didn't need to. Because the way she looked at me sometimes, that said it all. She wanted me. She didn't mind that I'd stop by her apartment late, or that I'd watch her sleep, buried under her gray blanket, while the stars strung around her room blinked on and off to the rhythm of her breathing.

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29. Adam

"What are you talking about? Who told you that, Adam?"

I put my hands on my head, felt the needles piercing my skin, the vice crushing my skull.

 

"He said we could be together...I just had to kill them. Kill that girl and that woman—the one who tried to fix me. And I did." I grinned weakly at her. "And now we can be together. And now we can. Avery. Don't you want that?"

 

She looked at me—terrified—and shook her head.

 

My hands curled into fists against my head. She wasn't doing what she was told. She was pissing me off. I didn't like to be angry at her, because then I would hurt her.

 

"I want you to leave," she said. "Adam, please. I won't tell anyone what you did."

 

I sat down with her, she moved away from me. I gripped her wrist, pulling her back to me.

 

"I will never leave," I whispered.

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