Zenon's Game Chapter 305

It took me a moment to react to that. I realized the repercussions of our behaviors piling on top of each other. Him watching me lose myself to the trauma of the last few months led him to act this way.

"You pay a lot of attention to the details I didn't think you noticed. Actually, details I didn't want you to notice," I said.

Zenon is attentive; much more than I ever thought he could be. I thought I was hiding my tiredness, my pain, my fear, my hunger. But he'd noticed. Some of it, at least.

"What are you saying?" Zenon asked, throwing the knife back into the drawer in frustration.

I hope that didn't leave a mark.

"Uh..." I tried to figure out what I was saying, "I didn't want to trouble you with my pain, but you noticed it anyway. And then you tried to fix it in your own way. I realize that a partnership only works if I share more with you. I'm scared to overburden you."

"It's OK," he calmed me down, drawing me into his protective arms in one natural move.

I pressed my head against his chest and pressed my hand lightly on the top of his unflexed bicep. His hand stroked my hair. I breathed in his scent, the same scent that was on all the hoodies I'd stolen from him. But the original version was so much better.

"You've only done what I've done to you," he said, "I didn't open up to you about my college situation, my family or my knee problems. You knew I was going through it, but you didn't push me to tell you. Or interfere like I have for you."

I mumbled, "I didn't want to burden you when you weren't burdening me either."

"It's not a burden."

His hands swept over my lower back and his fingers latched on the belt buckles of my jeans, pulling down as he relaxed his grip. His soft lips pressed lightly on the top of my hair, so light it was as if he didn't want me to feel it. But I felt it to my core.

"Then I have something else to confess," I said and after he murmured yes, I went on to say it, "I don't want to stand by and let you hurt others but at the same time, I f*cking love you and I can't say anything against you. I'm a hypocrite and I'm torn two ways about it."

He sighed, "I don't know a single person out there who is 100% consistent. I have a h*e*l*l of a lot of imperfections for you to deal with, but everything I do doesn't need to reflect on you."

I don't know if I agreed with that. Zenon still didn't regret what happened to Kaden – in Zenon's opinion, the ends justify the means and the ends weren't that rough on Kaden anyway.

"I lash out at people and you've always called me out on that," he continued, "I don't know what being bullied feels like. I can try to understand, and I can listen to you, but let me also give you the confidence that you will never be bullied again."

My mind was still twirling with everything else he said.

I believed him. I hadn't expected us to speak like this. I'm not sure what I expected but it finally felt like we were speaking the same language.

"Do you know what the scariest twenty seconds of my life was?" he asked, tilting my chin upwards, "The time it took for me to run from my house to yours. I saw that freak climb out the window and I hate myself every day for not going after him."

I exhaled a large breath I didn't even know I was holding. "You shouldn't carry that burden. You are the reason I'm fine."

I know Zenon is in pain too. He's dealing with the aftermath like I am, but he's going through it in a different way.

"I have never been more afraid in my life than I was for you that night," he said, and I saw a glaze of emotion in his eyes.

He was hurting.

"It's messed us up," I replied, sitting on the edge of my bed beside him.

I took his hand in mine and clasped it tightly.

He looked at me, his eyes a clear blue and a soft smile brushed his lips. "Don't you think we were a bit messed up to begin with?"

"Probably," I said, "But you opened my eyes to that. I didn't realize how little I trusted people and how much my insecurities were holding me back. I'm trying to work on that."

Before Zenon came along, I didn't think I deserved to be loved. I didn't think it was possible. And I'm not even sure I realized that I thought that way until he pointed it out.

"This change you always go on about is painful," he said, shaking his head and pressing his hands back against my bed, "I'm happy I'm making you trust me. You should trust me."

I looked at him, feeling an urge to reach out and lie on top of him. He saw the way I was looking at him and sat back up. His free hand reached out to brush against my chin. His fingers locked around my stray hair and he curled it behind my ear, letting his fingers brush against the tip. I shivered.

He spoke quietly, as his eyes wondering down. His thumb gently traced down to my collarbone and along to my shoulder, where he felt my b-ra strap under the thin fabric of my shirt.

"Your b-ra is too small for you."

I inhaled, not trusting myself to speak. I watched as his hand lightly pulled my shirt over my shoulder, exposing my bare skin. He let his fingers trail over it, knowing the effect his touch had on me.