"But she was off with our—" War cuts himself off, and I swear he fucking smirks. Which is not normal for War, but he's changed a lot since he got married. Tova brings out a more human side to him. Cosima makes me less human. Fuck me. “Off with Cosima," he corrects, not calling her our sister.
"You two fought over Marks and her getting her off the continent before you knew what was happening."
"I fought with the three of them when everything went down on the shopping trip." Wars' brows furrow together. "Those three together are…" He shakes his head.
"Chaos." They're all young and naïve in their own right. War nods his head, still appearing annoyed. I am too. I would rather Cosima be here, but I had gone and run my fucking mouth.
"What is your plan now?"
"Plan?" I lean up against my desk, kicking my legs out. Where is he going with this?
"Are you sure you're all right?" He doesn't answer my question, instead asking one of his own.
"I'm good."
"You're off. Stiff." He shrugs. "Not yourself. Is it whatever you were working on or Cosima that has you in this state?"
"I'm good," I repeat, not in the mood to get into it. I haven’t even figured out what the hell I’m going to do about Cosima and all of these emotions she makes me feel. I sure as hell am not ready to tell War that she’s the reason for me being off. That I obsessively stalk his sister and want to fuck the hell out of her.
It’s all I can think about suddenly. Sex isn’t something I let rule my life, but there is this force gnawing at me to take her, claim her. The hell is wrong with me? It’s not only about sex when it comes to my Cosima, but now it’s dominating my thoughts even when I sleep.
There is no escaping it, and it is only growing worse. Time away didn’t help at all, and it's only made me more on edge. Andmore than that, I'm missing something. I'm not sure what it is, but it's there on the fringe of my mind, just out of reach.
“You know if you need anything that I’m always here.” I give him a head nod. “I’ll leave you be then,” he says before exiting my room and leaving me alone with my thoughts.
I turn back to my computer and bring up the feeds I have on Cosima. She’s asleep. I’ve slept like shit since I left. When I do manage to get a few hours, I dream of her, and it’s always the same dream over and over. I reach out and touch the screen, stroking her cheek. She makes my chest ache in a way only she can.
I walk over to where I left the half-empty bottle of whiskey and debate taking a swig. I almost do but stop myself, going into the bathroom to pour it down the drain before I strip my clothes off and take a shower.
My hand goes to my cock, and I close my eyes as the warm water runs down my body. I start to stroke myself, letting that fantasy dream play back through my mind. I swear I can still recall the way her pussy tasted and how sweet she smelled. Those little sounds she made as she came for me.
It doesn’t take long before my balls are drawn up tight and I’m coming. I open my eyes and watch it go down the drain. The orgasm is doing nothing for me. That ache that’s been inside of me for weeks is only growing worse. I flip off the water, drying off.
I have to go to her. This not speaking to her is driving me slowly insane. I need to be there in person, not only because I know that’s the only way I can get her to speak to me but because I need to see her too. To touch her.
I grab my phone and fire off a few messages and see about getting my ass over to Italy. I get a message back about having a flight lined up. I should try and get a few hours of sleep in the meantime.
When I pull the blankets back on the bed to try to straighten it before I face-plant into it, I notice a red stain. I lean over the bed to get a better look. It’s no doubt blood. I might do my best work behind a computer screen, but that doesn’t mean I don’t get my hands dirty. I’ve spent many nights out in the barn with Ronan and War when times called for it.
“What the fuck is that?” If I’d cut myself I would have noticed the next morning, even with a hangover and in a rush to get out of here.
I march back over to my computer to see who the hell was in my room while I was gone. I keep a camera on my door, for security reasons. There would have been an alert while I was gone if someone came into my room. I start to backtrack through the footage but don’t see anything. I go back further to the night I drank myself to sleep.
I watch myself stumble into my room. I fast forward to the next morning but stop when I catch sight of Cosima coming to my door. She knocks, tilting her head toward the door to listen. I had to have been out cold at that point.
Then she turns the knob, slipping into my room. I speed up the footage, watching the time keep going, ticking away, and her not exiting my room. What the hell? Finally, hours later, the next morning, in fact, Cosima slips from my bedroom.
I freeze the frame, zooming in on her. If this was anyone else leaving someone’s bedroom, I’d bet my life that person had just been thoroughly fucked. Cosima’s always perfect hair is a wild mess.
What the hell happened? I run my hand down my face before I keep watching the footage until I see myself leave with my bag and that note in my hand.
“Fuck me.” I glance back to the bed, a pit forming in my stomach. No, it was a dream. The best dream of my life. I go to rewind the footage to watch her enter and exit my room again,but before I can, I see her heading back toward my bedroom with a tray in her hand.
She enters my room again, this time not bothering to knock. A few moments later she is coming back out with the tray, an irritated expression on her face. Then she disappears out of sight. My guess is to return to her room and find that note.
My mind starts to race. I rush back over to the bed. “No, no, no fucking way.” I grab the sheet, ripping it off the bed to inspect it closer.
What the fuck have I done?
