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“My little fighter likes to play games.” “And my little lord likes control.”
“I told you to stay, and you did.” It’s like my feet have a mind of their own, and before I know it, I’m right behind him, so fucking close I feel the heat of his body against mine. I wrap my arms around him and open the book. “I read up to where your bookmark is.” His breath hitches, and as if that action controls my body, I smile. “See? I’m not a total asshole. I waited for you.”
“You’re mine now until I say otherwise.” An argument doesn’t come, instead words that stab my father in the back. “Then you’re fucking mine too.”
Dean nods and gets off me. He picks up The Count, and I gently work it free from his hands…and open it. He frowns but then settles in close, and we quietly read together.
Their sweet moments were everything
“You’re mine,” I say against his skin. “Mine to fight with, mine to take care of.”
I feel it, feel him like he’s a part of me, like he always has been and always should be.
We finished The Count of Monte Cristo, another book after that, and now we’re reading Giovanni’s Room. Together. It’s strange and perfect and maybe one of my favorite things.
“Oh my God. You’re freaking out because I called you his boyfriend, aren’t you? Boys are so ridiculous. What the fuck do you think you are, Dean? You basically live with him. You’re in his bed every night. The two of you mark your territory so much, I’m surprised you don’t piss on each other. That’s about as boyfriend as you can get.”
I loveeeed Aislin
I roll my eyes, but part of me likes to be cute to him.
I want him with me, where he belongs.
