It didn’t take a genius to know the guys had fucked her before I got there. Not only were her cheeks flushed, but I knew the guys. When they got laid, they were more cheerful and relaxed. Stitches even cracked a joke with me, while Ashes was more talkative than usual.

Plus, I’d seen Stitches try to discretely give Sirena her panties back when he thought I wasn’t looking. She’d left the room after, letting me know she’d been out here with her long legs on display and nothing on beneath the pretty blue dress she wore.

Chairs. Grass. Rocks. Boats. Snails. Dirt. Sister Esther.

I ran the most boring or gross things through my mind to alleviate my desires and the fact that I was close to pitching a tent in the kitchen.

“Same as last week,” Ashes said. “Cady is staying behind, so if you need her, text her. You know how she is. If it’s really serious, just call us, and we’ll come back.”

“She’ll be fine,” I said firmly, knowing in my heart I’d make sure of it.

Ashes clapped me on the shoulder. “I know you’ll take care of her.”

Stitches cast me a narrowed-eyed look but didn’t refute Ashes’s words, which brought me some relief.

After they kissed her goodbye, Stitches making a decent show of it, they left us alone.

I pulled my notebook out of my jacket and went to the couch while she darted off to the kitchen. Moments later, the smell of something delicious filled the air. Curious, I got up and went in to see what she was doing. I was surprised to find her doling out noodles and sauce onto a plate.

She blinked at me so innocently I nearly melted, but I took the plate she offered and watched her take a basket of garlic bread and a salad to the table with two bowls and some dressing.

She got her own plate and settled down in Church’s seat as I took my old spot.

I watched her get up and grab the notebook. She brought it back before she placed our other note into its pocket for safe keeping.

Quickly, she scribbled out a message to me.

I looked at it and smiled.

I haven’t cooked in a long time, but I wanted to try. I hope it tastes OK.

I took the pen and wrote my message back.

It smells and looks amazing.

I paused and scooped some salad into my mouth after putting dressing on it and chewed quickly.

Whatever the hell dressing she’d used was incredible.

Next, I ate some spaghetti and bread before nodding and grabbing the pen again.

It’s official. It’s probably the best meal I’ve ever had. Thank you.

Her cheeks flushed pink before she went back to eating.

In silence, we ate, both of us finishing off our food. When we were done, I helped her clean up before we went back to the living room and settled on the couch next to one another.

I scribbled a note out to her again.

I got a pet.

She widened her eyes at me, so I continued.

Actually, Asylum got me a pet. It’s a snake. Reticulated python, or a retic as many call them. I haven’t named it yet. I thought maybe you could help me give it a name?

She smiled at that and wiggled in her seat, the pen in her hand.

Snakes scare me.

I wrote back, pulling another pen out of my pocket so we wouldn’t have to keep exchanging. She grinned at my brilliance. At least, that’s what I told myself.

Maybe we can work on that.

She smiled again.

I’d like that, she wrote back.

I contemplated my next question before posing it back to her.

So. . .? Want to help me name him?

She bit her bottom lip for a moment before writing.

I can’t name him without seeing him. Can you show me?

I hesitated for a moment before nodding and offering her my hand. Eagerly, she slid her palm against mine, and I pulled her to her feet and grabbed my jacket before tucking the notebook into the inside pocket.

Quickly, she put on her snow boots and her fluffy pink jacket, which went past her knees. I grabbed her hat and pulled it over her head, delighting in the smile she gave me, my heart so full I wasn’t sure how I hadn’t floated away yet.

Bring it in. Don’t get too close so soon. This isn’t going to last. You know that.

I swallowed thickly at my thoughts, the smile sliding off my face. She took notice and parted her lips. Before she could question me in whatever manner she was going to, I led her outside into the cool night air.

Again, we went silent, walking to my dorm. When we got there, I brought her into my room. She stepped in and looked around. Mirage was gone for the night, most likely out running through the forest like a maniac in his rabbit mask. I wasn’t sure what that was about. Past the woods and eating carrots, he wasn’t very rabbit-like.

I’d have asked him, but I honestly didn’t want to know the shit that went through his head. Same with Asylum.

I went to my snake’s habitat and pulled him out gently. Sirena backed away, her eyes wide.

“It’s OK,” I murmured, going to the bed and sitting on the edge. “I promise.”

Nervously, she took a careful step toward me, then another and another until she was near enough that I could touch her if I reached for her.

“Sit,” I instructed softly. “We can go slow.”

She did as she was told and sat next to me. Not nearly as close as I knew she would have had I not been holding the snake, but near enough to satisfy me. Mostly.

“He’s a little bigger than my last one,” I started, watching him curl around my arm and stick his tongue out. The care card that came with him said he’d eaten a rat just a few days ago, so I knew he wasn’t hungry.

She watched, visibly swallowing, as the snake darted out its tongue.

“Touch his head,” I said. “He won’t hurt you. I have him.”

Carefully and with a shaky hand, she reached forward and slowly rubbed the top of his head before jerking her hand away and shivering. I smiled at her innocence. Knowing the snake was unnerving her, I got up and put him back into his habitat before coming back to her.

She visibly relaxed, and I pulled out the notebook. She took it from me and wrote me a note.

That was scary.

I smiled at her words.

You were safe. And brave. I’m proud of you for petting him.

It was her turn to smile.

I was still scared.

I chuckled and wrote back.

You did great. I didn’t doubt you for a moment.

She wiggled in her seat before taking her boots, hat, and jacket off, then getting cozy in my bed and lying back against my pillow.

I swallowed hard and stared at her for a minute, watching as she patted the spot next to her.

I’d already taken my jacket off, so I pushed off my boots and scooted in beside her. The bed wasn’t the biggest, so we were body to body on it. I bent my knees, and she mimicked the movement, her dress not covering nearly enough leg. She didn’t seem to be doing it on purpose, though, but my dick wasn’t listening.

I cleared my throat and placed the notebook on our thighs between us.

What name do you think now that you’ve met him? I asked with my pen.

She tapped her lips with her pen for a moment before answering.

Hisstopher?

I chuckled at that.

Not bad. What do you think about Danger Noodle?

A soft laugh left her, sending my heart soaring for what had to be the millionth time that night. We spiraled into listing ridiculous names after that. We probably had a hundred names by the end of it, both of us laughing. I’d never heard her laugh that way before. It was music to my fucking ears. I wondered if the guys had ever heard her before.

William Snakespeare.

I snorted at the new name she wrote.

I like that. It’s settled. His name is now William Snakespeare.

She looked over at me, a beautiful smile on her face, her eyes sparkling. They were so vibrant and full of the life I longed for.

I’d never seen eyes like hers.

I realized in that moment that I loved looking into them, and it was really going to fucking hurt when I no longer could. I knew our days with one another were numbered.

It fucking sucked because I wasn’t ready to go anywhere.

I hadn’t even realized I’d leaned into her until her soft, warm breath scattered across my lips.

I was a breath away from fucking everything up, but I didn’t move away. Neither did she.

Instead, she reached out and cradled my face. I closed my eyes, absorbing the way it felt to be touched by her.

This was definitely different from anything I’d ever had before.

And this different was terrifying because I knew I’d do terrible things in her name. There would be no limit to just how far I was willing to go. She wouldn’t ever need to ask. It would be done without hesitation.

“Sinful,” she whispered, her warm breath blowing across my lips.

“Siren,” I answered back, opening my eyes to stare into hers.

Fuck it. I was going to do it. It was worth dying for.

I always made shit decisions. I knew this and did them anyway. A way of self-destruction or self-sabotage. Whatever fancy word people wanted to use for it.

The moment the thought went through my head, the door to my room banged open, and Mirage stomped in, looking like a wild man, with his black hair disheveled and snow clinging to him.

Sirena and I jerked away from one another as Mirage slammed the door behind him and peeled his coat off .

“We have company,” I muttered, watching him toss his shirt onto his bed.

Mirage turned and looked to us and raised his brows, a small smile on his lips.

“Hey,” he said, his body relaxing.

Sirena was quick to sit up before she straddled my waist to get over me and to him. She didn’t do it slowly, but she did falter. I caught her before she tumbled off me and hit the floor, the movement brushing her against my aching dick.

I swallowed down the groan at her over me like that. Again, I knew she wasn’t thinking it through and was just eager to greet the half-naked guy who interrupted probably one of the biggest mistakes of my life.

Mirage helped her off me, tugged her against his body, and held her tightly. I watched, having never seen him like this with anyone. Not that he was around a lot for me to witness, but this was different. I was catching a glimpse into something from their past.

Something I really had no business watching. I sat up, still unable to tear my eyes away from them though.

They were different together.

It was almost like watching two missing pieces find one another. Or magnets.

He cradled her cheek when she pulled away and stared down at her in wonder. There was so much focus and adoration on his face that it made my chest clench.

Dante and the guys were going to have their work cut out for them. I would, too, if I ever became part of that equation again.

Mirage leaned in, and Sirena placed her hands on his bare chest. Asylum/Mirage was fucking ripped. Asylum and I would often work out together in the evenings when we were bored. I supposed Mirage worked out in the forest doing whatever he did in the darkness, which only added to it.

I watched as Mirage whispered in her ear before he pulled away and stared down at her. He cocked his head to the right, a tiny smile touching his lips again.

She went back in for another hug, both of them holding one another tightly.

So that was what true love looked like. Like the kind of love that started young and progressed. That had gone through heaven and hell and still found its way back.

I finally looked away, knowing I wasn’t the guy who could have that.

“The self-loathing is a bit early,” Mirage called out.

I snapped my attention back to him to see Sirena had separated from him and had gone to stand at the window. She was staring out into the falling snow, her lips parted.

“Fuck off,” I muttered.

I glanced to Sirena again to see she wasn’t paying us any attention.

“And put a fucking shirt on,” I snarled at Mirage.

He chuckled. “Why don’t you take yours off?”

I looked up at him standing by his bed and scoffed. “Why?”

“Because you’re worried she likes the way I look more than she likes you,” he said softly, so I knew she couldn’t hear him.

I ground my teeth at his words. “Untrue, fuckhead.”

He laughed again. Then, he grabbed a clean hoodie from his drawer and pulled it over his head before flopping back onto his bed and watching Sirena stare out the window.

The room suddenly felt too small.

“Siren?” I called out, grabbing our notebook and jacket. “We should probably get back. I don’t want the guys to get home and you’re gone.”

She looked over her shoulder at me before moving away from the window. I grabbed her jacket and helped her into it when she reached me. She allowed me to help and even let me pull her pink hat over her head.

“Your mittens,” I said, clearing my throat and holding them out for her to put on. She did so without a word, silent as always.

I caught Mirage’s eye, and he winked at me before going back to the book he’d picked up. He read a lot. He was currently reading a lot of books on physics and the metaphysical world, but I’d seen him a week ago going through sci-fi novels. He was all over the place. I could have sworn I even saw him reading a math textbook one day.

“I’ll, uh, be back in a bit when the guys get back,” I said.

Mirage tossed his book aside and got up.

Sirena turned to face him again, and he dropped a kiss on the top of her head and then gave her another hug.

“Soon,” he said gently, almost a whisper to her. “Believe me?”

She nodded, and he sighed and released her before backing away, a sad look on his face. I gave him a nod, and he went back to the bed and his book as we left the room.

It was a quiet walk, but I didn’t expect anything else. With my hands stuffed into my jacket pockets, we trudged through the accumulating snow. When we reached the house, I opened the door for her, and she went inside and took off her jacket and gear.

Needing a moment to myself, I stayed outside and grabbed a shovel. I cleared off the patio and the walkway before going back inside to find her sitting on the couch with our notebook on her lap and writing.

A sad smile touched my lips, and I removed my jacket and boots and went to sit beside her.

She slid the notebook onto my lap and got up. I took it and read what she’d written.

I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable tonight with Mirage. I didn’t mean to. I had so much fun with you. I don’t want the night to end or end weirdly, so I was thinking we could talk more? I like doing this with you. I almost feel normal when we do it. I also feel awkward because I don’t want you to feel like you’re being forced into this. If you don’t want to talk, we could just watch a movie, or I can go upstairs and give you some space.

She came back to the couch holding two mugs of hot chocolate, complete with marshmallows, and offered me a nervous smile.

“Sit,” I murmured, taking the mug from her that was intended for me.

A look of relief swept over her face, and she took the spot next to me, her mug in hand. We sipped our drinks, and I nodded.

It was some good shit.

Sirena clearly knew her way around a kitchen. Or at least spaghetti and hot chocolate.

I had a feeling the sauce and dressing she’d made tonight were homemade too.

Placing my mug on the coffee table, I pulled out my pen and wrote a note back to her.

I want to still talk. I’m just not used to seeing Mirage that way. That’s a me problem, not you. Any of my feelings are my issue. I don’t intend on making them yours. I know I’ve been dumping a lot of it on you lately with our notes, and for that, I’m sorry. I’ll work on that.

She stared at my message, a frown on her lips.

I like you telling me things. I don’t want that to stop.

I sighed, deciding I didn’t want to have this conversation and I’d go ahead and change the subject. I took the notebook back from her and wrote more.

Tell me about dancing.

She nibbled her bottom lip for a moment before answering me.

I know what you’re doing.

Unlikely, I wrote back. I want to learn about ballet. Tell me about it.

She looked at me, a suppressed smile on her face, before she put her pen to paper and wrote to me.

It’s like flying but on your feet. It’s freedom in song. In movement. I loved it.

I watched her face morph from content to sad in a matter of seconds with her words.

Show me?

I had no idea if she even would.

She scoffed at my words and paused her pen over the paper.

I can’t. It’s been too long. Things change.

She wiped at her eyes quickly.

I took the notebook from her and offered her my hand. She stared up at me, her face damp.

“Siren, dance with me?”

She blinked and wiped her tears again before taking my hand. I brought her to her feet and led her to the large space between the back of the couch and the kitchen.

“I can’t dance,” I admitted. “But we can stumble together.”

She smiled at that and moved closer to me.

“I definitely don’t know ballet,” I continued, putting my other hand on her waist and ensuring I kept holding the hand I already had. “But I do know the chicken dance if that helps.”

She let out a little laugh that warmed my heart.

“Shall we?” I asked, raising a brow at her.

She nodded at me eagerly, and I shuffled awkwardly with her until we were both laughing at how clumsy I was. It was when I spun her and pulled her against my body, rocking us together, that I realized it didn’t matter what I did.

She was it.

She was the one.

No amount of fighting it was going to work.

I’d die with her, for her, or because of her.

There was no other ending to our story.

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