"You love me."
Dean smiled at her. It was sad. "I hit you, Carmine Quinn." His finger ran over the skin under her eye until the shower's water and the pressure he exerted cleared the blood right off.
She was naked, he was not. She forgave him, he did not. She was sad, so was he.
"I don't see what one has to do with the other," she insisted.
His hands moved down to cup her face, his sad eyes staring into hers that were painted with blues and blacks on the right side. His right hand had the stronger punch.
"Don't do that, Carmine Quinn."
She took his hands from her face and placed them on her breasts. He did not flinch. Her stare was much more penetrating than his. "You love me."
"Get out of here, Bales."
I could still hear the rough knock of bones covered in wet skin from the other side of the door.
YOU ARE READING
Outside Looking In
Teen FictionHis name is Dean, hers Carmine Quinn. Most people just call her Carmine; Dean thinks both names fit her best. Dean and Carmine didn't fall in love, if you were wondering.
