if one of them is dead.

chapter forty.

Lilith.

"How about you try it, you dickhead," I snap, letting go of the doorknob. I've tried everything. Paper clip. Alohomora. Trying to knock the knob off.

Nothing works.

Nothing has worked for the past three hours. We've said a few words to each other. Mostly just 'do you have a paperclip' 'have you tried—' and 'yes, i've fucking tried that. would you just shut up for one goddam second.'

He shakes his head, leaning against his bed frame. "We can't do anything. They locked it well enough for us to not get out any time soon."

"Well, I'd rather spend a few hours doing this than talking to you for twenty minutes."

He sighs. "Why do you have to be so stubborn? Constantly."

I turn to him and stand up. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about," he says semi-harshly. "Because, Lilith. you've been cold ever since you got that goddam thing on your arm."

"What? Mattheo—"

"No, Lilith. I don't know what the hell happened after you got that mark, or what the hell went through your head when you decided to get it," he starts, his voice getting a little harsh. "I just know that I love you, and I absolutely hate that damn mark in your arm. I don't care if you thought that was going to give you protection. No matter how much that gives you, even if you didn't get it, I would protect you with my life. Do you understand me? I would die for you. I've never felt like that. Ever. About anybody."

"Mattheo—"

"Let me fucking finish, Lilith," he says, his voice in a weird in between place. It's not harsh, but it's not soft. And yet it's both at the same time. And it makes no sense.

"I never intended to love you. And I never thought you would ever love me back. And I definitely didn't think that we would ever become anything. I hate that it became something because that means you're in danger constantly. And I want to protect you from that— I need to."

"Mattheo, I can protect myself—"

"Until you can't." I raise my brows at him, and he glances away for a second. "I know you can protect yourself. But I'm your boyfriend, even if we're constantly fighting. Even when we weren't together, I still felt the need to protect you. You know that, and I know you've always hated that. But I hate you keeping things from me." He walks towards me, stopping a foot in front of me.

He grabs my wrists, and I look at him weirdly. "You've never acted like this."

"I know." He grabs my hands. "But if I don't tell you now, I won't ever tell you. And I don't like doing this shit— I hate it, actually. But I want you to trust me, okay? I want you to trust me enough to be able to tell me things. And show me things. I love you, and I don't want to lose you again."

I have to soften at that. God, I love him. And I missed him so much more than I ever thought.

And I can't resist him. I don't even think about it when I wrap my arms around his neck and place my lips on his.

He doesn't hesitate to kiss me back. And he pushes me around until he's on top of me on the bed.

I don't know if I'm ready for this. Or if I'll ever be ready. I will, and right now better be that time. I don't care if it's not.