My Lovely Tragedy by Marie Ann

Author:Marie Ann [Ann, Marie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-01-21T18:30:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

BROOKLYN

Every morning I wake, waiting for the moment Tobias wraps his arms around me and guides my fingers over the keys to the song he wrote. A song I hear in my head, even in my dreams—which have taken on a lifeform of their own.

Something vivid and disconcerting. Drowning in a hollow void.

I force unconsciousness in hopes the night passes faster because, for the first time in my life, I vie for the touch of reality.

Tobias hasn’t slept in his bed since he chained me. Every night, he either falls asleep beside me on the couch or in his chair across from me, laptop opened, fingers hammering away as he writes about me, bathed in the shadows.

I almost prefer those nights over the ones where he holds me. When he watches instead of touches. Both are equally disarming, but I can pretend much more easily to force distance when I have his eyes. I can’t at all when his skin is against mine and his body heat melts into me.

I crave it already. The feel of him. And I ache when I don’t.

Another fucking addiction formed, viler than all the rest.

My fingers trail over the healing marks on my arm—scabbed and gnarly, real—to behind me where Tobias stands, flipping through his journal and scratching another haphazard note. My arms burn with the strain of having played for hours, but I like it—Tobias using me in yet another way.

My arms are an extension of his. And as he slides his back over mine, fingers resting perfectly on top, I feel another shift. “Let’s try this,” he breathes quietly against the side of my face. I feel his eyes on me, so close he must be cross-eyed.

I revel in it as he guides my hands over the keyboard, repeating the last few notes before hitting a few more that are deeper than what came just before. It rings out, loud and vibrant, and I smile. “That’s it,” I concur. He hums softly in agreement, and we play it again.

My hands, his hands. His body in mine and mine forever in his.

It’s disorienting when he finally separates, and I sway as the room spins. Tobias catches me with a near-silent huff a second before my hands slam across the keyboard.

“Perhaps we should get some food in you,” he muses, ruffling my hair, now longer than it ever has been. I lean into the touch before it disappears—just like everything else.

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