c h a p t e r. 24

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"There are betrayals in war that are childlike compared with our human betrayals during peace."
― Michael Ondaatje

chapter 24

"Sweetheart," Bar says, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he glances over at Clementine right as he parks the car in her rather long driveway.

"Y-yes?" Clementine narrows those gorgeous as fuck eyes at him and Bar almost, almost doesn't say what he was planning to.

But he couldn't help himself.

"I'm jealous of your heart. It's pumping inside of you and I'm not."

The little goddess blushed and stuck her tongue out at him, telling him to shut up with a rather squeaky voice.

Cute.

Bar chuckled, enjoying the way heat bloomed onto her cheeks and stained them red.

And he liked that the blush distracted him from being so goddamn nervous.

Bar was scared that the little goddess's siblings wouldn't like him— he was almost certain that they wouldn't.

Obsidian didn't and Bar absolutely didn't blame the guy— after all the brute had done to the little goddesss in the past, it was a miracle that Clementine didn't hate him, much less that she was his girlfriend.

"Oly," Clementine bumps her shoulder into Bar's bicep, which made heat spark through the brute and for him to look right into the goddess's eyes. "Why do, why do y-you look so scared? Because you're about to m-meet my dummy siblings?"

"Yeah," He says.

Scared might not be the best word for it.

Scared is when he used to come home to the smell of whiskey on his father's breath every evening. Scared is not knowing where Gwen was or knowing where she was and her not being safe. Sacred is the sound of a beer bottle shattering at four in the morning. Scared is the adrenaline that pumped through him every time his father called him. Scared is cutting too deep by accident and having no one to help you.

Scared is the feeling he got every time he saw his father but the word 'scared' just didn't cut it anymore.

It felt overused.

Paralyzing worry. Toxic thoughts. Overthinking-produced numbness. Anxious jitters.

Those fit better.

"You're s-scared of them?" Clementine looked fully at Bar as he parked the car. "But why?"

Bar blinked as he looked at her.

He's afraid she won't like him anymore if they don't. He's afraid she'll see him how his father sees him and how he sees himself. He's afraid she'll replace him with someone better, someone easier to love and that he's going to lose her. He's afraid someone will come along and she'll realize they can make her happier than Bar ever could. He's afraid of losing the little goddess.

He's afraid of so many things and doesn't know how to say them all.

"First impressions are key," Bar said instead. "I don't want them to think I'm some stupid ass who can only think with his dick."

It's easier to downplay fear than to acknowledge it.

"I've, I've talked enough about y-you that they won't think that." Clementine confidentiality told him, unlocking her door, tugging on his hand.

Bar, slightly shocked, raised an eyebrow, "You talked about me?"

Clementine looked at him like he was crazy.

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