He was playing devil's advocate and I didn't like it one bit, we had reached the end of another soul-eroding argument and we were tired. Tired of fighting. Tired of being so tired.
Why me, Bridge? Hey? How did you end up here with me?
I didn't even try to lower my guard. I looked back over my shoulder, meeting his eyes, one hand consciously twirling a lock of my hair. My eyebrow arched in measured surprise. I spoke softly, the smoldering acrimony heating up the blood in my veins too slowly for my taste. His question highlighted his own frustrations, his need to be cruel suddenly in pointing out our differences, how the two of us ended up together. Fine, I can answer that as expected.
Ask for familiar territory and familiar territory is what I'll give you. I should write a book about us. I'll call it The Reverend and the Whore.
It's simple, Jake. I liked you better.
My voice came out in a whispery low-pitched ember, burning with defiance. Fuck, I hate being sick. He stared at me with his customary mixture of disappointment and fascination written all over his face. It's a look I know well, an expression I seek out to elicit from him when I feel like offering up half of my angst. I felt the familiar sting of tears in my eyes because when we argue we bring everything to the table now. All of it. Getting that look achieves my goal of bringing him to his knees when I know I can't win. I hate myself for doing it. I'm ashamed of it and then I go and do it anyway. It generally works to a fault but on this night he only wavered for the moment it took me to recognize that expression. Then it was gone.
Don't do that, Bridge.
I shook my head.
You don't need to be cold like that. Not with me. I didn't mean it like that.
Then don't ask when you know the reasons, Jake.
Reassurance is as necessary for me as it is for anyone, princess.
I should be asking you the same question, Jacob. Why me? f I'm the last person who should have been able to take your heart then why are you here with me now?
Ironically, Bridget, it was because of the bond we had from the very first moment, when you trusted me right away, even though you struggle with it now and you don't have to. Because of our instant intimacy. Because you're so beautiful I never want to take my eyes off you. Ever. Because you are so tiny and delicate and yet so fierce I want to save your life even when I don't need to. Because you make it impossible for me not to love you. Because of your unfailing commitment to me, and to getting both of us through the hard parts when you don't want to hurt. A risk that you know you need to take. Like now. Do I need to keep going because I can talk all night about the reasons that I will love you for the rest of my life, whether you want me to or not, princess.
Oh, damn. He's better than I at this. I can't wage a verbal counterinsurgency with the true master of devoted reasoning. I surrendered first, figuratively on my knees for his acceptance of my efforts to pull him down with me and choosing to defy me instead with syllogism.
My God. No words at all. Sometimes I still pinch myself and yet he's proven to me time and time again that I might be, no, I am the luckiest girl on earth. Also the ugliest, drippiest crying one. Someone save me from myself. Wait, that position has been permanently filled.
He kissed my forehead. He won't kiss anything else lately, so that he doesn't get sick too.
You're running a fever again.
I nodded, I feel like hell. I'm worn the fuck out.
It explains the delirium, Bridget. You hardly ever run out of words anymore.
I'm sorry.
Don't be. Trust me, for someone who's as sick as you are, that was a mighty powerful little display of defiant sexuality. I almost pulled you down on the floor right there.
Oh. You should have. I shook my head at him before thrusting my lower lip out. Then I ruined the pout with an obnoxious and to my dismay, overly productive sneeze.
See, I would have, princess, but the whole snot thing this time around isn't nearly as cute as it was last spring.
Take that back.
Oh, princess, I would but I just can't. I'm sorry. He started laughing.
You? You suck.
Still out of words, I see. My God, you're so funny. It's adorable.
Suck. With a capital 'S'.
Give up, princess.
Goodnight, Jacob.
Goodnight Bridget. I love you.
I love you. I'm going to snot all over you after you fall asleep, you know.
It's okay, I'm getting used to it. You've been doing it every night anyway.
Did I mention you suck?
