Antidote by LC Lehesaho

19

The beeping sound is annoying as fuck, so I try to focus on my lucid dream, holding on to it as long as possible.

I know it's not real because things happening in it could never really happen.

It's us.

He paints a beautiful picture of a castle on the wall, a glimpse of a real fairy tale with a princess and a prince, knights, and unicorns. His jeans hang low on his waist, revealing the carved V-line on his abdomen when he turns to look at me with a beaming smile on his face. His eyes shimmer from happiness, and it's the most beautiful sight I've ever seen.

He's shirtless as always when he paints, and there are paint stains on his skin. The wild animal tattooed on his side has gotten its share of the paint, and now the black nose twitched into a roar is pink.

I can see him talking to me, but I can't hear him. I don't have to, though. I've never seen him as happy as he is in my dream. He walks through the room and crouches in front of me. Then, he places his palms to my belly. To my big round belly.

That's why I know this is a fucking dream.

No.

It's a fucking nightmare, messing with my head, torturing me with the things I'll never have. What we will never have.

A normal life.

A chance.

"She needs more meds. No, she's not awake, but I can see she's hurting. How much? Are you sure I won't fuck this up?"

Something touches my arm as the indistinct voice tries to linger in my dream, but I don't want to leave it. It can be a fucking nightmare, but he is there, and I don't want to give that up. Not yet. He kisses my big belly and looks up at me with his dark eyes, but there is no hint of darkness in them. I love to see him like this, unburdened.

"No, I haven't injected anyone before, what the fuck? I'm not a junkie, for fuck's sake. What happens if I miss the vein?"

Something wet wipes over the bend of my arm, and the smell of pure alcohol stings in my nose. No… not alcohol. Disinfectant.

I blink my eyes open and jerk my arm back. Or at least I try to. My head hurts from the bright lights, and I'm pretty sure only one eye opened because my line of vision is a bit crooked.

"Shh, it's okay, worm, it's just me." His voice is clear now, not muted as in my dream. I turn my head, and there he is. Not as happy as in my dream, no. The dark circles under his eyes tell me that he hasn't been sleeping for a while. Also, the stubble on his jaw hints that it's been at least a day since the last time he shaved.

Everything comes back to me in flashes. The date. The amusement park. Luke. The laughter. The joy. Lucky. The kiss. The normality. The pain.

And a quick rewind of how I numbed the pain. Eased it by embracing it—the KO.

"Stay still 'cause I have no fucking clue what I'm doing," Tiger says and wipes my arm again with something. He keeps the phone pressed against his shoulder while both hands are occupied with me.

Hastily I force my words out. "No, stop." My voice sounds like a dying crow. Clearing my throat hurts like a motherfucker, but I see the syringe in his hand, and I don't want it, so I make myself speak. "No. Don't… I don't need it."

He furrows his brows as he looks down at me, and I note that I'm lying on one of the beds in our medical room. There's no one else in the room, and slowly Tiger let's go of my arm and takes his phone with his hand.

"I'll get back to you," he says into it before tapping the screen black and placing it on the table beside the bed. Keeping his eyes on me at all times.

I admit it. I am in pain, not just emotionally but physically. Apparently, I received quite a good hit. Or a couple. But on purpose, just to feel this. I need the physical pain to balance the emotional distress, and I won't let him take it away from me with painkillers.

Maybe I kind of hoped that I wouldn't wake up again, but...

Only a little.

Tiger places his hands to the side of the bed and leans on it. He looks like there is a thunder of emotions inside of him. The sharp jaw tightens when he inhales deeply, and then he drops his head down, his muscled shoulders moving up and down with his breathing.

"Why?" He doesn't look at me, and I don't blame him. I wouldn't want to look at me either, because I know that if I feel this shitty, I must look even worse.

"I don't want the painkillers."

"I don't mean the fucking painkillers, Cobra," he growls and swings his head up, a pair of fierce eyes meeting mine. "Why the fuck did you act like a brainless idiot? You could've died!"

Ah. Yes. I don't want to disappoint him too. So, I'll try my next card—denial.

I shrug. "We agreed that we need them talking. I couldn't just shoot him."

"Oh, bullshit! You had two blades strapped around your thighs, and I know that you can use those. So, why?" Tiger's expression turns even more menacing, and even though his demeanor screams death and destruction, I don’t find myself being afraid of him. I don't know if it is trust or a death wish, either way, I confront him without blinking an eye. It pisses him off even more. "Don't you dare try lying to me again."

I can't. I don't want to talk to him about my headspace. Not to anyone, to be specific.

So, I stay quiet. If he doesn't want lies, that's what he gets.

Tiger straightens up, wipes his face while he starts to pace around the room. His tensed muscles move under his black T-shirt in a way that lets me know he wants to rip the entire mansion to pieces. It tears me up to see him like this. Always so on edge—because of me.

"I'm sorry," I whisper under my breath and fiddle with the sheets. I feel the urge to rip the IV needle from the back of my hand and carve my wrist open. End this agony, mine and his.

Tiger stops and stares at me. "What?"

"I said, I'm sorry."

"The fuck are you sorry for? For trying to kill yourself?" he snarls at me. "Yeah, baby girl, that covers it. You're sorry."

I lift my eyes, well, the one working eye to him. "What else do you want me to say?"

He storms next to the bed and slams his palms to the edge of it. I don't flinch from the outside, but my insides do. His rage tears down every wall I try to build because I feel the pain behind his mayhem.

"I want the fucking truth. Why?"

I just can't handle this anymore. Emotions strangle me more than he ever has. "I had fun."

Tiger's brows snap together. "Fun? You had fun when the fucker beat the shit out of you?"

"No. I meant…" My eyes wander to the sheets, and I feel my neck tingling. The pain from the memory. The fear of losing him. The embarrassment of betraying him like that. Even if we're not… anything. I had fun. He did not. "At the amusement park. I had fun."

He doesn't say anything for a while, but I feel his eyes on me. I can't make myself look at him. I know it would make me cry my eyes out.

"So, you felt bad for having fun and decided to punish yourself for it, am I right?" he finally asks.

I nod. That's all I can do.

"Why can't you have fun?"

"'Cause… you weren't," I murmur under my breath.

"Baby girl, look at me," he commands softly, but I can't. My body is frozen after saying those words out loud, revealing my demons. You're not supposed to share those. Everyone has their own, I have mine, and he has his. Tiger's fingers come to my jaw, and he carefully lifts my chin up, so I'm forced to meet his eyes. There's such softness in them that it breaks my heart. "Was it because you were having fun without me or having fun with him?"

I swallow, and it hurts so bad. "Both."

"Do you want to be with him?"

"No."

I know I don't. Luke is just a guy I fucked to forget and a guy I used to trick my family.

Tiger cracks me a slight smile. "Then the next time… don't fucking wreck your beautiful face 'cause of it, okay?" He leans to me, his warm breath on my ear, making my skin shiver. "'cause you know I can make you hurt more than anyone else ever will, and I can do it without leaving marks."

Even with my train wrecked body, my core tightens at his words. His presence. "Then why do you leave them every time?"

"You're mine, that's why. As long as you don't let me mark you from the inside, I'll leave my marks on the outside." His tongue touches my neck, trails to the soft spot behind my ear, and then I feel him placing a kiss there. "You don't need anyone else, baby girl. I can give you everything you want."

I know his possessiveness is beyond a healthy relationship, which we don't have because we don't have a relationship, but I can't help but be taken by it. The power he holds over me is making me feel… safe. Like he could actually make sense to my wrecked brain.

But I also know that this is not a fairy tale.

Tiger is not my prince in shiny armor.

And I'm not a princess who could be saved.

"Tiger…" I whisper and close my eyes, gathering my breath, and trying to get my brain to work.

"Yeah, baby?"

"This is wrong on so many levels that you have to stop, please," I beg, I fucking beg him, even though I'm dying on the inside because I have to say it. If fairy tales were real, I would beg him to never stop.

I can hear him take a long inhale, like trying to keep calm, and then he exhales into my neck. Again and again. I stay still and quiet.

"You're making me lose my fucking mind, Cobra," he tells me, sliding his hand down from my jaw to my throat, and closes his fingers. My body reacts to it but not in a healthy way.

My body is as twisted as my mind, and it sparks like fireworks on the fourth of July. I can only imagine how Tiger would make me spark if he could do all the things he wants to do to me.

Why in the name of hell am I even thinking about this?

The sharp sting of pain on my neck makes my skin quiver when he bites me. Even though I told him not to, he's marking me, but I don't make a move to stop him. I want to be marked by Tiger. As fucked-up as it makes me feel, I crave him to take me to the edge. Make me feel everything. Entwine the pain with pleasure. Take me so high that everything else disappears.

The chaos in my mind makes me sick and tired, and I fucking know that I should grow a backbone and stop this, but I don't have it in me. I'm just as weak as I've always been. My mind controls me, not the other way around, and it makes me spineless. I'm not strong like my siblings, who can handle their shit. My dreams about having a normal life prove it; I'm too soft to say no even to myself.

Dad is never weak. He didn't raise us to be soft. Everyone else is like him; they are strong like him. I'm not.

Why can't I be like them?

Just by biting my cheek, I keep myself from trembling. Like sensing my internal mayhem Tiger moves his hand from my neck to the back of my head, and his touch turns to a soft caress. His velvety lips are a delicate solace on my skin, completely different than a moment ago. He has always known how to balance me. He never goes too far; neither has he ever left me cold.

Tiger is a hurricane and the calm after the storm all at once.

The bed shifts above my head and his lips disappear from my skin. When I open my eyes, I see him looking down at me—another hand above my head and another still on the nape of my neck. The different shades of brown linger in his irises, darkening toward the edges. And like always, there's a glint of unpredictability in them. It is, in some sick way, comforting.

To know that he has demons, just like I do.

"I can't," he says in a scratchy voice that sinks straight to my abdomen.

"Can't what?" I'm out, I have no idea what he means. I don't even remember what we talked about earlier. Did we talk?

Tiger rolls his thumb gently on my jawline. "I can't stop. I can't stay away from you." He furrows his brows and lets out a heavy sigh. "I tried. I really fucking tried, Cobra."

My chest aches because nothing good can come out of this. I open my mouth to tell him just that, but Tiger stops me.

"Don't even try. You did this." His tone is almost threatening, and it takes me by surprise. My breath catches when I watch his sinister presence hovering above me. Tiger really can make the atmosphere oppressive. "You kept me alive, and you got me to fall in love with you. I was ready to die back then, but I stayed because of you. You said that we were doomed from the beginning, but you know what, baby girl?"

I'm quite sure he doesn't expect me to say anything, so I keep my mouth shut. Not that I would have any idea what to say whatsoever. I feel my heart thundering in my chest from his words, and even though I knew that already, it still makes me burn from the inside.

"We are not doomed, you are." Tiger smooths his voice and wipes a strand of hair from my temple to the side. "I'm tied to you and vice versa. If you want me to stop, make me. The only way you do it is to put a bullet through my heart or slit my throat, 'cause nothing less is gonna work."

I stare at him, wide-eyed and gape. "I'm not going to kill you. I'm trying to keep you safe."

He lets out a snort. "Cobra, safe is an illusion. People like us are never safe."

And just like that, he turned my own words against me. I should've seen it coming. I close my eyes, take a deep breath, collect my racing thoughts, and try to find loopholes for us, trying to find our happy ever after.

I know there isn't.

He knows there isn't.

But Tiger is right about one thing—we are tied. Always have been.

"I know, but..." I find his hand with mine, taking a deep breath. "I can't get past the images in my head about what could happen. I'm so fucking scared for you."

"Don't be, baby. I'm a big boy, I'm sure I can take care of myself."