Consumed » Kai Parker

Fifty One

I scoff lightly at the accusation, more annoyed at how accurate Kai's analyses are when it comes to my hard-to-kick habit of stressing. On the spectrum of thinking, I'm on the far end where every single experience and emotion twists itself into a bigger beast than it has to be, gnawing away at my sense of well-being.

Kai is on the opposite end of that hypothetical scale, generally going through life without allowing any individual thought or what-if scenario to gain so much presence in his mind that it may potentially nag at him. Sometimes, though, he thwarts worrying thoughts to the point of harmful and willful ignorance, putting himself at risk. There's some things worth mulling and stressing over, especially in the complicated existence that we both live, and I continue to wish Kai would take time to realize that rather than approaching most situations in his nonchalant manner.

The two of us are living in opposite extremes in that respect; if only we can find our happy medium. Things aren't always so simple.

Lifting his arm from his face, his eyes sweep to the side to scan my expression and his smile brightens. A deep chuckle emits from his throat. "Hit a nerve?"

I roll my eyes. "No. You're just...too much."

"You've done a pretty good job of handling me so far."

I purse my lips, recognizing the innuendo as his eyebrows slightly raise. "Kai. Can you just admit that sometimes, you're too casual about situations that could end up being harmful to you?"

He tilts his head. "Are you trying to tell me one bad dream is gonna harm me?"

"I'm trying to tell you that you don't have to bury everything under your oh-everything's-fine mask. You make me talk to you whenever you know something's bothering me, so why can't I do the same for you?"

"You can," he replies matter-of-factly, "when something is actually bothering me. And this case doesn't make the cut."

I glare at him, irritated by his stubbornness, and he laughs, wrapping a hand around my bare thigh.

"On second thought, there is one thing you can do to make me feel better after my super scary nightmare." He waggles his eyebrows dramatically, a lazy smile lingering on his plump lips.

"What's that?" I ask warily.

"Lay down with me for a while," he says in a low husk, sliding his hand down slowly from the crook of my elbow to lace our fingers together.

Chewing on my lip, I eye the clock. "I have to get ready in a few–"

"You don't start class 'till eleven on Tuesday's," he says. "And it's not even eight. We've got time."

My eyebrows draw in. "How'd you know that?"

He smiles, stroking his thumb over my knuckles. "I pay attention."

Unable to suppress a smile, I internally debate whether to accept his tempting request or dash into the bathroom before his blue eyes and lopsided smiles break me down farther. It is only seven forty and the pattering of the rain against the window is making Kai's arms look more comfortable by the second.

"You should eat something first."

"Plenty of time for that later."

"But you're looking sort of pale–"

"Charlie," he sighs, his lower lip jutting in a slight pout. "Please come here."

I laugh at his increasing impatience and the childlike quality of his plead. "Okay. For ten minutes, and then it's breakfast time."