To Love And Be Loved

Chapter 26

Song: Lana Del Rey- Video Games

Cass was reading on her bed when her phone rang. She always read before sleeping. She liked the way the fine print lulled her into a sense of peace; soothing her muscles and calming her nerves until she was ready to sleep.

She folded the page she was reading and picked her phone from the nightstand. The caller ID said it was Victor. She took a deep breath and braced herself for the way her nerves tingled whenever she heard his voice. She picked the call.

"Hey," she breathed.

"Hey," he said. "Do you wanna talk?"

"Why not? Where are you?"

"Look out your window."

Cass got off her bed and walked to the window. She pulled the curtains apart and opened the window. Victor was outside, next to his car with his hands in his pocket. He gave her a small wave when he saw her.

Cass sighed. "Climb up," she said.

"What?" Victor's voice sounded amused.

"Climb up the window," she said. "I'm too tired to go outside."

She heard him chuckle slightly, then he said, "okay."

He walked towards the house and moments later she saw his fingers on the window as he heaved himself inside. The moon was a huge silver ball behind him and a cool night breeze came with him as he landed quietly inside her room with a catlike grace. He wore a navy blue hoodie with black joggers, his hair completely disheveled and all over his face and yet he looked like he could be on a runway.

"You look tired," she said.

"I am tired," he said. He sniffed and rubbed his eyes. "I've been thinking..."

"Thinking?"

"Yes. That it would be an absolutely good idea if you decide you want nothing to do with me."

Cass drew a sharp breath and blinked twice. "Why would I want that?"

He rubbed his eyes and sighed. "Everything... and everyone I touch seems to end up in ruins." There were shadows under his eyes and the look in them was haunting.

"I've done things, Cassie," he said. "I've done things."

"Should I be concerned."

"You should. But I don't want you to. Sometimes it all makes me feel so... dirty."

"You have a good heart. Nothing changes that."

"Do I?" he asked and for a moment Cass couldn't decide whether he was asking her or asking himself. "I've done drugs. I drink a lot. I have six exes. And I've slept with more girls than I can count." A pained look crossed his face as he said it. He smacked his forehead and muttered, "Gosh, what am I doing here?"

Six exes. Cass held her breath and hoped she had heard him wrong. Six exes. "You know, everyone seems to be warning me about how you are some kind of badboy," she said.

He chuckled slightly. "Badboy," he said. "That's what they call me. And you should probably stay away from me." He sank his hands into his pockets and squeezed his eye shut and when he opened it again, he was smiling.

"What?" asked Cass.

He walked towards her and stopped right before her. "I can't stay away from you, Cassie," he said. He withdrew his hand from his pocket and traced her jawline with a slender thumb. "You make me crazy."

Cass shivered at his touch and the way his scent filled her nose and made her crave him. His words ran around her head like a swirling clash of rainbow colours. His lips stared at her invitingly, filling her with a strange longing.

You make me crazy too.

"Is that a bad thing?" she asked.

For a moment he didn't answer; she looked at him acutely aware of the fact that she was wearing only a pajama with a very large Mickey Mouse on it.

"Victor?" she whispered. He walked to the window and leant against it. Cass walked to her bed and took the book.

"What were you reading?" he said.

"Romeo and Juliet," said Cass as she replaced the book on the shelf and turned to look at him. His eyes looked tired. "You can sleep here," she said softly. "If you want to."

She returned to her bed, crawling up onto it and drawing the covers to her waist. Somehow, looking at him like this, she had the feeling that she had known him forever.

He tapped his hand softly against the window frame. Cass propped her chin on her hands and watched him as he jerked the curtains shut and removed his hoodie and hung it over the back of a chair. He was wearing a black T-shirt underneath. The tattoos on his bare arm shone darkly as he unlaced his boots and stepped out of them.

He came towards the bed and stretched very carefully beside Cass. Lying on his back, he turned to look at her. A slice of moonlight filtered into the room past the edge of the curtains, just enough for her to see the sharp outlines of his face and the gleam of his eyes.

"Did Romeo and Juliet love each other?" she asked.

"Why do you ask?"

"I've read the play a million times... and that is the one thing I can't figure out. Were they really in love? Everyone seems to think so."

There was a moment of silence before he answered. "Romeo was certainly looking for love because of the fact that he went within a day from Rosaline to Juliet. Like Juliet he was... in love with the idea of love. Both Romeo and Juliet were hasty and so had no time to really think about each other and whether their love was true."

"I guess that explains it," she said. She noticed red welts on the crook of his forearm. They were more like a mix of scars and bruises and they protruded up from his skin. "What are these?"

It was a long time before he answered. "Heroine tracks," he said, finally. His voice was low.

She looked up and met his eyes. "When?"

"Two years ago."

"What did it feel like."

"It feels pretty good at first. You feel euphoric...on top of the world. Nothing can replace that feeling. But after the first dose, there is nothing on your mind, no greater need than having that second. You'll feel it clawing your stomach, your head, almost like an itch. Until you find yourself begging and crawling for that second, then the third, then the fourth, until you've lost count."

"They are so-"

"Ugly?"

"No," said Cass. "They are beautiful. They are your scars, your stories to tell." She slid her hand across the bed-sheet and touched the scars. They were strangely smooth and her fingers prickled, she half expected a spark of electricity from his skin.

She felt him tense beside her, he released a shaky breath and then relaxed. "The tracks appear when you have injected into the vein so much that it collapsed and then you begin to inject into the muscle."

He had shut his eyes and his dark long lashes cast fine shadows across the curve of his cheekbone. His locks lay like tendrils of black smoke against her white bed-sheet.

Cass smiled. Being with Victor was the best feeling in the world. It was like a jolt of happiness and a wave of joy coupled with excitement that almost made her giddy.

She removed her glasses and placed it on the bedstand next to her alarm. She got back on the bed and laid her head on his arm, her back to him. "I don't snore," she said.

She heard Victor chuckle slightly. "Even if you did," he said, "it'll be cute."

She laced her fingers through his.

"Good night, Cassie," he said.

"Good night," she whispered. She fell asleep with their hands clasped while the moon bore witness.