Playing His Own Games | ✔︎

chapter twenty | the consequences of vulnerability

*•*•*•*
"The wolf in my heart will never let the world see the lamb in my soul—but sometimes you see it in my eyes."
*•*•*•*

Mason

UNLIKE OTHER PEOPLE I don't wake up from a nightmare; I wake up into a nightmare far worse than the imaginary monsters my subconsciousness creates.

But this morning, for the first time since my mother tore off into the night all those years ago, I wake with a blanket of calm draped over my heart.

My eyes remain closed, wanting to relish every moment of this blissful tranquillity. It feels like I've sunk into some sort of utopia. Outside, birds sing tunes cheerfully while the wind brushes against the sky, gently drawing the clouds back to reveal small ribbons of blue.

And then there's her.

Carrie has fallen asleep in the crook of my arm, blonde hair spilling like a waterfall down her back and shoulders, every strand capturing the beauty her face holds. Her head is tilted up, her eyes shut and her pink lips parted as she exhales, chest rising and falling steadily. Last night she brought oxygen to my lungs, a heart to my chest and blood to my veins. She was a flame burning bright in an ocean of darkness.

She made me feel alive. Something that no girlfriend, friend or fling ever could achieve. No girl I have known has had that effect on me. She didn't sleep with me, she didn't kiss me, she didn't even slip her hand into mine. Instead, she joked, laughed and mucked around, welcoming me as not just as the label I'm recognised with.

"Hmph," Carrie grunts in her sleep and shifts in my arm.

A smile spreads across my face and I pull her an inch closer to me.

"I swear to God, boy, I'm going to kill you one day!" My fathers voice slams into my back, shattering the serene state I'd begun to drift into and giving birth to the familiar sense of overwhelming, crushing fear.

My eyes fly open and my terror only mounts as my eyes catch his expression. Rage fills out every crease and crevice on his face. His eyes are full of pure, burning fury that I know is just craving to be unleashed. Instincts kick in and I jerk back so violently Carrie's body slips out from underneath my arm.

"What the fuck?" she cries out, her arms flailing widely as her eyes snap open, full of alarm and distortion as she struggles to regain her senses. Her whole body freezes as she sees my father towering over us. "Oh, God..."

"Yes, Miss McDermott, I think you phrased that excellently," my dad snaps, fingers curling inwardly into his palms as thick, pulsing veins make an appearance across his forehead. "What. The. Fuck."

"I'm terribly sorry, sir." Words tumble out from Carrie's mouth, driven by both fear and embarrassment. I doubt she often wakes up in the arms of a boy and is confronted by that boy's father. "I never meant any harm. We—I guess we just got a bit carried away. I can't—I just—I'm really sorry."

For a moment, exasperation rolls over his features, easing the storm of anger in his eyes, before the chastising and berating begins. "Do you know how disrespectful it is to barge into someone's house, destroy their kitchen and then proceed to exploit their trust and respect by ruining their lounge room and falling asleep on their couch?"