𝐆𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 [𝟏𝟖+] ✔

55

I've never wanted to stay in bed all day and night, but with Eric Osprey beside me, his arms and legs tangled with my own, I'd lie here forever. Right now, as he holds me tightly, keeping me safe, there's nowhere else I'd rather be. I run my fingers through his messy hair, trace the dark ink on his neck, all the way down his chest and stop at his hip. He's a work of art. Perfection. All the muscles on top of muscles that my nails have dug into, kissed, devoured.

Next to me, my pale, freckled complexion only amplifies his tanned skin.

When he groans in his sleep and buries his head between my breasts, I smile a genuine smile. A ball of happiness is inside of my chest. Everything seems to be falling into place. The acceptance from my dad, Mark and his group of hooligans are gone, and Orla is in the process of being passed into my and Eric's care. If only the impending temporary separation wasn't looming.

It's only a few months. Then Gareth, my dad, and Eric will meet up with us and our new lives begin.

Two days.

Forty-eight hours.

That's how long I've had with Eric since leaving my dad's office. Since we admitted to him that we're together and have been for a while. And strangely, he's been okay with it. I expected a war, or for us to be separated and told to stay away from each other. But nope. Dad, to my own shock, said that as long as I'm happy, he's happy. He even sent a long message to Eric saying that he's glad he found a balance and a purpose, and that if this was years ago, before the dome, he'd be more than happy to sign him off all of his duties as my bodyguard.

He would have given us a chance.

But he obviously ended the message by calling him a sneaky prick. I guess that's their friendship since Eric chuckled when he read it out to me. Mum already knew, and I'm surprised she kept her promise of not telling him. However, he'd lose his marbles if he found out she knew this entire time.

The first night here at Eric's place, which he keeps calling ours, we slept in each other's arms the way we are now, lay in bed all of yesterday watching Come Dine with Me and played Scrabble. He was in denial about half the words I came up with, but without a dictionary or Google, he let me go. I won. Every single game. Even when he just kept coming up with misspelt words that sounded sexual.

He cleared the board and flattened me with a kiss. Although it was gentle, it completely took my breath away.

We laughed like it might be our last and stared at each other as we lay on the couch and listened to music. I've lost count of how many times he has blushed. He'd tell me that he doesn't deserve me, but he's always been too selfish to give up on me.

My mind keeps going back to the way we were in his flat all those years ago. Laughing. Giggling. Playing around and having fun. Drunk, yes, but I hadn't felt that way since that night. And now I have it all. For now.

But then he brings up his past, and I tell him that I too have taken lives, that we did what we had to do to survive. Me physically, him mentally. I had to fight my way out of there, whereas Eric needed to get his revenge.

We all have a dark side; it just depends on how and who brings it out.

The response had been a delicate kiss on the kitchen counter, followed by him telling me how beautiful I am while he cooked us dinner.

It took me far too many compliments until I believed him.

He'd kissed the marred skin while I wept that I looked revolting, admitting that I was worried he would be disgusted by the monster's initials or the mutilated hands. His lips trailed over every bruise and cut while telling me that there's nothing in this world that would change the way he sees and feels about me.