Evolution - The Oasis Project Book 3

Eight - Linkin

After the food, Yulian admitted that there were bottles of champagne waiting for us. The cake was cut and the drinking began. With alcohol, things quickly became less tense between Ira and me. The mood lightened and after finishing the first bottle, things seemed funnier as well.

"Yulian, why does the label you put on this bottle just say 'Mr and Mrs Linkin'?" Calling it a label was being generous. It was really just a piece of masking tape over the original label.

It seemed like no one else noticed because others started to giggle. "Does it really?" Ira said with a grin, grabbing a bottle and inspecting it. "What the heck, Yulian?"

His cheeks were red from the alcohol, but he also seemed like he was blushing. "I-I don't know your last names," he admitted with a shrug. "I don't even know your real name." He looked at me.

I was grinning. "Who says Linkin isn't my real name?"

A chorus of "me" ruined my fun and we all laughed.

"My name is Valentina, which I hate so I will kill you if you call me that. My last name is Maione."

"That's why he calls you Tina!" Yulian shouted as if the final piece of the puzzle clicked in.

We all started laughing as I glanced to Thierry and raised a brow who merely smirked. "Not like he can say it anyways, no point in telling him."

"You're an ass," I rolled my eyes, "It's Wachsmuth."

The whole room went quiet before spending the next five minutes trying to wrap their tongues around his foreign name. Shockingly, the closest one was Yulian, a fact which impressed everyone. "Not bad." Thierry nodded. "Now forget it."

"Are you going to be Valentina Wachsmuth?"

I frowned at how it sounded, I glanced to Thierry and finally smirked and shrugged. "What's one more name to my name. Hyphen?"

"I don't know, I might want your last name to run from mine."

Once again, everyone was laughing well into the night. The party only stopped when the alcohol went dry. Thierry slowly stood up and smirked at me. "Coming to bed, baby?"

Yulian had called it quits about an hour ago and Stuart was helping Ira to her feet. I hesitated and slowly shook my head. While I was drunk, I was far from happy. I had long since come down from my high and I felt a pit growing in my stomach. "I think I'm going to go sleep in my office."

"There isn't a bed in there?"

I nodded and sighed. "I don't have gloves here, Honey, I don't exactly have a wide variety of clothing either. It won't be safe in bed with me."

As Stuart and Ira stumbled out of the room, Thierry sighed and came over to me. His buzz was quickly crashing. "Haven't we talked about this?"

"We have, but that doesn't change the fact that I don't want to hurt you. I know you don't care, but I do."

"Tina, please." He pulled out a seat and sat down beside me. "You can't keep pulling away like this. We're engaged now, you have to trust me a bit." I opened my mouth, ready for yet another fight and Thierry realized he used the wrong words. "Not trust, but, you know what I mean."

"Do I?" My voice became softer as we started to argue. I ran my fingers through my hair and groaned. "I told you when we first got together that this wasn't going to be normal. You told me you're okay with that."

"Well, I was!" he hissed, getting into it as well.

I blinked at the words he used. "Was?" I slowly shook my head. "What are you saying?"

Thierry let out a frustrated groan, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table. "I want to be able to hold you without you pushing me away. I want to touch you and for you to not to have to focus on not hurting me, I want you to feel me."

"You know what can't happen!" I went from whispering to yelling in frustration as he pushed the wrong button.

"You gave up!" Thierry voice raised. "Let them do more tests to try and-"

I shook my head. "Is that always your answer? I'm done being poked and prodded with a needle! I want one question answered and I can't even get that done, do you really think someone can find a way to fix me?"

"You can at least give them a chance!" We were now in a shouting match, our passion turning us bitter.

Some part of me knew that Thierry just wanted to help, but he was going about it wrong. I didn't need to hear about how I needed to change, we needed to find a way to make my situation work. "You learned how to adapt in Alaska to disconnect out of fear. Out of the sheer terror of feeling someone else die... You tell people that it hurts more when they fight against your ability. Isn't that all you do, Tina?"

I just stared at him, stunned that he'd dare say something so bold, so out of line. "You fight yourself, you hate yourself and what you've become. I know you won't say it, but everyone sees that you don't eat anymore, that you can't even look at yourself in a mirror. Isn't it time to try something else? I love you, when do you start loving yourself?"

Leaning back in my seat, I slowly shook my head and let out a shaky breath. "I'm a monster..."

"No one else sees you that way." Thierry reached out and took my hand, "You're loved, unconditionally loved. No matter what you do, no matter what you say, you are loved and we are never going to leave you. You will never be a monster to us, you're a strong, beautiful woman." Thierry reached out and placed a hand to my cheek, wiping away a tear I didn't realize I had let fall. "One I love with all my heart. If you could find the good in drunk criminal, why don't you think someone could find the good in you - someone so kind she pretended to be a doctor to help people."

Maybe it was the memory of a better time or the reminder that I wasn't just a weapon, a tool to be used for evil. I forgot about Asmar and the Oasis Project for a second and just breathed. My heart felt lighter, the knot in my stomach lessened and my tattoos began to ripple as I closed my eyes and relaxed into Thierry's touch. "I just wish you could see you how I see you," he whispered, moving his chair closer and wrapping his arms around me.

His warm embrace soothed my beaten down soul and I could feel his breath on my neck. Images of myself dancing and singing into a hairbrush flicked through my head, followed by me on my motorcycle, my hair blowing in the wind, to when we were getting tattoos. I never realized how my own nosed scrunched when I laughed, truly laughed and was happy.

It was weird to literally see myself through someone else's eyes. I continued to cling onto him, relaxing more into his touch as images continued to relax me. Thierry saw me as beautiful, strong as I bent over a pool table and beat him yet again. He remembered me only in the good times, in the best of ways. Even as I knelt beside a man tied to a chair and interrogated him for money, I could feel his love for me.

"Tina?" Thierry whispered, pulling back ever so slightly.

I opened my eyes, the images disappearing as I looked at him as he ran a hand along my are arm. "Look," he was smiling as he glanced down at my tattoos, shifting, adapting to his mind.

I frowned for a second, confused. "You're okay?"

"You finally seemed to have accepted yourself..." After that, the mood quickly changed. The fight was over and for the first time in what felt like for forever, I allowed myself to feel. Thierry let go all restraint and patience he had for the last two years. The thought that we were in the mess hall never crossed our minds as clothes were discarded on the floor and the rest of the world simply seemed to fade away.