8.4

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„Fine," I huff, crossing my arms in front of my chest as I fix my eyes on the horizon. „As I said, it's not a one-way thing, so if that's how you feel, then neither do I belong to you in any way. Which means I can screw whoever I want to screw."

„You can't," he replies flatly, already starting the engine once again, though before he can pedal, I'm out of the car. It doesn't take more than two seconds to unfasten the seatbelt and jump over the door. Hands buried in my pockets, I stump across the meadow. Six steps. Then he wraps his arms around my chest from behind, pulling me back against him with force. I wince in pain.

„Let go of me."

„Then stop running away from me," he growls, his voice dangerously low. Back and forth, once again.

Sighing, I relax in his arms, leaning against him. Strangely, all that does is make him tighten his grip further. I lift my hands to his forearms, pulling slightly, but he won't budge.

„I'm not running, so let go," I reply softly, but he just shakes his head, burying his face in my neck. „I don't get you. Really. What do you want me to do?"

„Just what I tell you," he mumbles weakly, rubbing his nose against my skin. Carefully, I caress his forearms with my fingers.

„Dael, that's not going to happen. If you want someone like that, you have to look for someone else," I say seriously, though the thought of him being with someone else hurts. But being together with him is painful as well. I don't want to end up in a cage every time I'm not careful.

„Don't want to."

„Me neither," I admit with a sigh.

„Then just stay with me."

„Why?"

„Because I want you to," he grumbles, slightly irritated.

„But why?" I ask again because I have to hear him say it. All those implications, all of this clinginess, it's not enough.

„I like you."

„Well, I don't just like you, so that's not enoug," I state firmly, trying to turn around in his arms. He doesn't let me move, not even an inch. Sighing, I lean back against his chest, enduring the silence that stretches uncomfortably.

„Can't it be enough?" he whispers softly, struggling, hurt. My fingers clench around his arm as my heart clenches inside my chest, causing my breath to hitch. „Just for now."

„Why?" I repeat weakly.

„Please."

„But why can't you tell me? How am I supposed to be with you when I can't understand you?"

„Because I don't understand myself," he admits, wrapping his arms around me tighter until it's difficult to move my chest. Slowly, I lift a hand to his head, then stroke his silky hair. Even after several centuries, he's still fucked up.

„Is there anything else about your past I should know?" I inquire carefully.

„Probably."

„Will you tell me? At least someday?"

„Probably."

„Good. Now, I get that you're jealous, but I don't have many friends, so please don't push them away," I tell him lightly, finally able to smile again. It's easier to deal with him like this.

„You don't need anyone but me," he replies stubbornly, causing me to roll my eyes at him, though he can't see.

„I do and so do you. It's fine if you don't like it when I dance with Keith, but that doesn't mean I'll have to stop doing it."

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