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Chaos is the only thing that makes me stop and stare. It’s a pause button to my brain.
I grin. “I want to be your first.” “My first in what?” My thumb wipes the moisture under her eyes. “In everything, Butterfly.” “Then I want your firsts, too.” She juts her chin. “Promise me.” “Promise.”
“Hate me all you want, but keep our promise. All your firsts are mine.”
I’ve always thought sleep is a waste of time. Why sleep when you can read?
Sick. Maybe. Probably. And part of my sickness is her. My Butterfly. My chaos.
“Happy birthday, Butterfly,” he whispers against my ear. “You’re now mine.”
“Because she’s mine now.” My throat closes around the word. Mine. How long have I waited to say that out loud? Years. Fucking years.
“Here’s the thing, Butterfly, I can’t stop.” “Why not?” “Because you’re my chaos, and I can’t survive without chaos.” “I’m chaos?” “The worst of all. The most beautiful of all. And you know what? You might as well be the deadliest.”
My breath shortens, but I whisper, “Because I’m your chaos?” “Because you’re the reason I look forward to new days.”
“Well, here’s the thing, Butterfly.” He leans over and brushes his lips against my nose. “I don’t mind self-destructing if it’s with you.”
“Because I love you, Cole. I’ve been in love with you since you found me in the park that day and pulled my hair and told me you wanted my firsts. I’ve loved you more through the years, and I hated every time I had to face the reality that I couldn’t be with you.”
