Sink With Me

“Sharkie?”

“What.”

“There’s a vial. If you can’t complete it, do us a favor and make your body one less for us to handle.”

Ignoring her statement, I move to slam the door behind me.

“Just look for my tampon!”

Her words echo into the hall through the closed barrier, setting my teeth on edge. Fucking disgusting. Fucking smart.

Going the same path I came, I returned to the daunting room, searching the cabinets again for her stuff. Sure enough, there’s a wrapped tampon. I didn’t know we manufactured this level of items. I guess there’s a lot I don’t know, though.

Taking a once over the room, I ensure everything’s in place while I adjust my hair into my cap. It’s a miracle I’m not seen rushing to our… Tides room. Peeking in the doorway, he’s nowhere to be seen. My hands shake at my sides, forcing me to clutch them against my abdomen, searching for any sign of him being there. Yet there’s none. For such a shitty day, I’ve gotten beyond lucky. So, sitting on the edge of the bed, my knuckles turn white against the sheets, as I stare at the entryway like he’ll burst through at any moment.

Every scenario spirals in my head like a spider spinning its web. Slit throat is an option. I pull Tide’s blade from the waistband, twisting it between my fingers as I think. I could overpower him. I’ve done it once before; I can do it again but that would be too messy, so I tuck the knife back into my pants. Suffocation? No, adrenaline will kick in. It’d be too much of a fight. A bullet between his eyes would be simple. I shake my head, trying to rid the image of him before me, bringing the barrel to his chest. Too loud.

I can just use the poison. Yeah, that’ll work, be less of a mess, and be easy to accomplish. He trusts me enough, I can easily slip it into something, and he’ll be able to go peacefully, without any pain. But why does that matter to me?

Date: 5-16-2024

Time: 2036

My head hits the ground, jolting me awake, the covers tangled around my legs, and the room dimmer than I remember. I don’t know how long I’ve been asleep, but I do know that falling off the bed is just the icing on the damn cake for this day.

I groan, rubbing the back of my head in hopes of relieving the throbbing of my temples. Just as I go to stand, large, calloused hands engulf my biceps, and an overwhelming smell of cigar smoke invades my senses. I cough, waving my hands, trying to free myself.

“Shit, I’m sorry, love. Hold on.”

Prying my eyes open to the sound, I see Caspian hurrying to put out the burning tobacco on the bottom of his boot. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him smoke one. I’ve always smelt it, though. His hands are back on me in an instant, running over my arms and face, looking for any injury. I try to look around. What time is it? Better yet, how much time do I have left? I didn’t expect an adrenaline crash to hit me hard enough; it had me passing out unexpectedly.

“Hey, look at me. What the hell just happened?” He breathes out, forcing me to glance in his direction as he pushes a strand of hair behind my ear. I’ll give it to him. He’s good at what he does, but I’m better.

“Well, I fell off the bed and now here we are.” I explain sarcastically as I push his hands away. My throat constricts from swallowing. Why does this feel hard?

“I see even the fall didn’t knock the smart-arse out of you.” He mumbles with a ghost of a smirk on his lips. I hate his stupid pretty face so much it hurts. I shift to pulling the blanket off my legs as he sits back on his heels. Letting out a heavy sigh, I steal a glance at him, contemplating what I want to say.

Play your part and complete your mission.

“At least I’m not a manipulative asshole.” It’s hypocritical for me to say. I’m no better than him at this point. His brows furrow at me like I’ve lost my mind. I’m convinced I lost it long ago.

“I’m not apologizing.”

I roll my eyes, but I’m so tired of arguing and fighting. It’s been my whole life. I don’t blame him; I’m not apologizing either. We are just the products of everything wrong. It would never last. The world is bloodshed made for shark bait. He kisses my head, letting his mouth linger longer than my heart needs.

“I’m going to take a shower, then I can fix all of this, okay?”

I nod once in response; thankful he didn’t ask me to join him. I’ve never had a problem with hiding my emotions or pushing any feelings back, but right now I’m teetering on the edge of a cliff between what I have to do and this odd feeling burning its way through my chest. I don’t need him distracting me.

He retreats to the bathroom, leaving the door cracked enough that I can make out the motions of each article of clothing, leaving his body neatly tossed into the hamper. Taking a breath, I head to the kitchen, shifting through the cabinets until I find tea pouches. I’ve never made the stuff, but if I find something he likes, maybe he’ll see it as a peace treaty more than a cover.

The kettle rests on the counter still plugged into the wall with a smudged fingerprint still on the button from the last time he used it.

The sound of water hitting his skin distracts my thoughts while my hands move in numb motions, carrying me through the unusual task. Once everything is warm, and neatly poured into a glass, I pull the tampon from my pants with a shaky hand, disgusted at the way I have to push the applicator for the vial to appear.

Breathe.

Things have been screwy since I held a knife to his neck, but everything after has felt all too natural, whether it’s been stupid bickering or small moments meant only for us. The clear liquid stares back at me, urging me to fulfill my mission to end everything once and for all. I shake my head like it’s an etched sketch, hoping it can wipe his smile from my memories long enough for me to tilt my hand. If he was lying he did a beautiful job. It felt real, unlike everything else in my life.