Page 122 of Wallflower

“I’ll try not to,” Rip says through a humourless laugh.

Reid leaves us, and a charged silence settles over the room.

There’s a mirror hanging over a makeup table. Rip gestures to it. “Do you want to remove them?”

I shake my head. I don’t want to see myself in that state again.

“You trust me to do this?” He’s visibly shocked as I nod. He won’t deliberately hurt me, not when it comes to this. His lips land against my forehead in a soft, long kiss.

When he looks back to me, tilting my chin up gently, he stares intently at my wounded mouth. “I’m going to cut down the middle, then I’ll have to pull each piece out individually.”

“Okay,”I murmur.

His black eyes are focused as he works, allowing me the chance to really appreciate how fucking handsome he is. The rough stubble across his jaw scratched against my most intimate parts. His narrowed eyes are the darkest shade of brown, but when the light hits them just right there are flecks of honey, copper, and warm milk chocolate mixed within their depths. There’s a small scar on the underside of his chin, one across his eyelid, and another that intersects his collarbone. I wonder what caused them. A fresh, angry welt mars his inner wrist. A near perfect circle. A burn.

Slowly and carefully, he clips through the x’s crisscrossed over my lips.

He smells like blood, like violence, like protection. And I breathe it deeply into my lungs, his expensive cologne muddled in with the scent calms my thundering heart.

“Stop looking at me like that,” he says, flicking his eyes to mine.

I hum a “why?”

“It’s distracting.”

My lips pull against the remaining bindings in a smile.

“Stop smiling,” he grumbles.

My lips fall, and I mumble mockingly.

“Fuck, I can’t wait to get this shit off you.” The clipping stops, and I fight the smile this time as he starts to pull the bloody pieces of cotton covered wire from my skin.

“Stay still, this piece is sharp and tucked behind your lip.”

I bet my breath is fucking atrocious,I think.

I hold the air in my lungs as he pulls my bottom lip down, cutting the wire two more times, then removing the jagged pieces from my mouth.

He exhales a heavy breath, fingers running over the holes in my skin. “Any more pieces?”

I shake my head.

“You can talk now, you know.”

I shrug.

“Rose…” he growls and I smile.

He throws himself at me, pressing his lips into mine.

A twinge of pain shoots through my lips and a small sound escapes. He pulls away like I’ve burned him, but I’m faster. Curling my fingers into the back of his shirt, I stop him from escaping. “I shouldn’t have left,” he whispers.

“No, you shouldn’t have. But that’s only because I missed you, not because I blame you. This isn’t your fault.”

He scoffs in disagreement. “So, your voice does work.”

I smirk. There’s something about getting under his skin that just lights me up in the best way.