urge to scream at the frustration coursing through my veins. I spin instead, looking for something I can throw against the wall. The bed is the only real furnishing in the room, even the lamps on either side of the bed are built right into the wall, so I stalk over to the bed and snatch a heavy feather filled pillow and launch it at the wall of curtains on the opposite side of the room. It thunks to the floor before reaching its destination. I growl then stomp over to pick it up, squeezing it in both hands I bury my face in the dense fluffiness and let out the scream I so desperately need to free.
“What has you all riled up gattino?” Ares’s low voice startles me enough I let loose a real scream. My body wilts, exhausted by the constant upheaval of emotions. One look at my face and he’s walking over, a slight frown marring his features. “What’s wrong?” Ares’s eyes search mine, and I roll my lips to keep the words I want to say from escaping. If they hide me away now, what will they think if they know how much I crave touching them? How I can’t even be in a room with them without wanting to have them surrounding me? And it’s not just one of them. I want all of them in the same way. It’s harder to hide when it comes to Ares, because everything about him screams sensual. It’s like his eyes are begging me to touch him right now.
I spin away from him, letting myself drop to the bed. In that moment I make the decision to tell him some of what I’m feeling. I can’t meet his eyes when I say, “I think our connection, our Infinity, whatever you what to call it, is broken.”
Ares folds himself next to me, his feet bare stretching out much further than my own. My eyes travel up over the light gray pants he’s wearing and past the thin black t-shirt to his face. His hair is wet, curling at the end where the water is still pooling off the tips to land on his shoulders, the dark fabric concealing any of the moisture that falls.
“I really don’t think that to be true,” he holds up his hand to stop me when I would interrupt him, “but tell me Cara, why you think it is.”
“I know you know my name is Laura.” Ares hides a grin, smothering it with his hand. “Why do you call me Cara?”
Ares sighs, leaning back on his hands. I watch the lines of his torso as he does. He looks up at the ceiling, unaware I’m ogling him. “Did you know my mother was Italian?” He departs the information so conversationally. I shake my head no, even though he must know this information is new to me, but I’m afraid to interrupt him. “Until her marking manifested, she lived in Italy.”
“My fathers were both from America, so it was decided she would come here. She never really got over leaving her family. We usually manifest around sixteen, she was a young girl all alone except for her pair, living in a big city.” Ares turns to face me, his lips tipped up at the corners crinkling his eyes. “She would like you.”
Before I have a chance to say anything he continues. “She said having me made her miss home even more, we grew up speaking both languages.” Dropping back on the bed, his eyes still on me he adds, “Sometimes I slip up, and in Italian Cara is a term of endearment.”
“Where is she now?” I lie back on the bed, turning so I’m facing him with my head supported by my hand.
“She and my fathers travel quite a bit. I suppose we will see them for Christmas if not sooner.” Reaching over he places some loose hair behind my ear, tracing his fingers over my neck when he pulls away.
Clearing my throat, I sit up. This is exactly what I was talking about. I’ve witnessed small touches between them, it’s completely normal for them, the same way they share food. I, on the other hand, take it to mean more. I want it to mean more.
Ares places his hands behind his head and stares up at the ceiling. “Now, tell me what’s bothering you.”
How am I’m going to tell him and what can I say that won’t make me sound like the hoochy Dante already