Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 32319 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 162(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32319 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 162(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
"I’m sorry, Savannah. I'm so fucking sorry I ever brought you here. What the hell was I thinking?" I start to get up. "We need to—"
"No," she says, pushing back on me. "Just…" she sighs. "Can we just take a breath?" She turns her body, repositioning so she can see me. "All I want is to be with you. I don't care where it is."
"It's all I want. Ever wanted. You're it, Savannah. You've been my dream since that first time at the silo. Before I even knew what it meant to love someone like this, I loved you."
She smiles up at me. "Whatever happens to us, as long as it's us and we're not alone, we'll be OK."
It's bullshit, these words. It's not even remotely true. But I don't want her to know that. I'll do anything to keep her from knowing that.
She leans up and kisses me. Her lips taste both sweet and salty. And it reminds me of how into it she was last night. How she took my cock in her mouth—
"Yes, what?" I ask back.
"Yes, I want you inside me right now."
I chuckle. "That's not what I was thinking."
"Not yet," she says.
For a moment, all I see in her is sadness. Loss. Betrayal. It kills me.
And she knows I can see it, because she puts a fingertip on my lips. "No. Don't think. Just… take me." These last two words aren't even a sound. Just her lips moving around the letters. "Talk dirty to me, Legion."
"Why, Savannah? When I could just talk sweet to you instead? Wouldn't you like that better?"
"If you talk sweet to me right now, it'll sound like pity. That's what you're thinking. You're… re-thinking. I shouldn't be here. We aren't gonna make it. The world is a cruel place and happy endings don't exist."
I don't reply, because she's right. That is what I'm thinking.
"I don't want you to feel sorry for me, Legion. Protect me? Sure. Rescue me when I need it? Absolutely. But all the other times, I want you to… " She looks away for a moment. Up at the water-stained ceiling like she's thinking. "I want you to take me for granted."
"What?" I almost laugh.
"Not in a bad way. Just… a for-sure way. Like you know, with one-hundred-percent certainty, that I will always be here." She places her hand on the side of my cheek. “Take me for granted. Talk dirty to me. Fuck me any way you want. And by doing this, you're sending a signal. A signal that says, you're so sure of my love, you assume it will be there tomorrow."
This sounds… well, crazy as all hell. The words are hard to put together because she's trying to describe a feeling of… comfortablenesss. Not even sure that's a word, which is the problem.
She's trying to define… emotional certainty. A kind of sacred mundanity. The feeling of being so woven into someone’s daily existence that your presence isn’t a question—it’s a given.
And I get it.
That's what I want too.
Someone who is so completely mine, I feel certain that she will be by my side no matter what.
No matter how far away, no matter how mad she is, no matter what.
We are a we. And we won't ever be alone again, even if we are.
Savannah gets up on her knees and takes off her jacket, throwing it across the small room. She tilts her head, smiling coyly at me.
So I help her with the shirt. Lifting it up over her head, watching as her tits appear. The moment I toss it, she starts clawing for mine. Taking off my cut, then my shirt joins hers on the floor.
For a moment, we're still. I watch her as she studies the tattoos on my chest.
Her fingertips trace the archangel's sword raised in the air, like triumph, if you don't look too hard at the defeat on his face. At the wounds in his side. Wounds he earned.
Below the angel, the demon wails. No sword in him now. That's the problem with the moment after.
The evidence is somewhere else.
"They're both dying," she whispers.
"Yeah." My voice comes out rough. "That's the point."
She leans down, presses her lips against the brand that marks me as Badlands property. The infection makes it burn, but I don't pull away. Pain and pleasure—they've always lived in the same house for me.
"I want you," she says against my skin.
I run my hand up her back, feeling the notches of her spine. She's lost weight since I went away. Three years of her life I missed. Three years of her changing while I stayed the same, locked in concrete and counting minutes.
"You sure?" I ask, even as my cock hardens against her thigh. "I mean, life is so fuckin’ heavy right now—"
"I need this." Her eyes lock with mine, fierce and certain. "I need you. I want hard this time, Legion. I want to feel you. Your power. Your muscles, your strength. Claim me again. I want it."