In the Language of the Flowers

| 37 |

✾ Snowdrop ✾

There was a moment of stillness after I shut the door gently behind us. Ren stood frozen in front of me, his back turned to me and his head slumped against his chest. A fast breath overtook him and he shifted his weight between his feet. 

I watched him silently, waiting. 

"Fuck," he whispered. 

"Yeah," I said. 

"Fuck!" he shouted, slamming his hand against the wall. I stared at his bloody knuckles. 

"Fuck," I agreed. 

He lifted his hand and stared at it for a second before shaking it out angrily. But he couldn't shake off what he'd done. 

"It's ok, Ren," I said quietly. 

He raised his hands jerkily. "It's not--" 

"Hey," I said, reaching for him. But he flinched away. I stood there awkwardly, shocked and uncertain. "Sorry," I said. 

"Don't apologize." It sounded strangely like a warning. I should have heeded it.

"But I'm sorry. This never should have happened to you." I pressed on. "The world's fucked up, and it's not fair. You deserve better than-"

"Beau!" 

I'd never once heard Ren shout so angrily at me before. I stopped talking immediately, staring at him. But when he finally looked at me, he didn't seem angry. He just looked scared. 

Or, that's what I thought. But a scared person wouldn't launch themselves at you and shove their tongue into your mouth. Ren kissed me furiously. 

I wanted to kiss him back. I did. But I was worried, even a little scared. I just had a bad feeling. "Stop," I breathed, pushing him off and walking past him. I started toward the kitchen. "We need to take care of your hand."

But before I even made it close, he grabbed me from behind. He wrapped his arms around my middle, sliding my shirt up. His freezing hands glided over my stomach, up to my chest. "Please, Copper." 

He kissed my neck and took my skin between his teeth. I winced, knowing it would leave a mark. I was being torn in two. "Ren, you're upset." 

He pinched my nipple between two fingers and tugged slightly. To my surprise, my body reacted. A shot of pleasure zipped down my chest and stayed there. I grabbed Ren's wrist and pulled his hand away. "Don't do that." 

"But you want me to do it, don't you?" he said, resting his chin on my shoulder. He looked down. "See?" 

"Ren, now's not-"

"You were so happy earlier," he said. "When I asked for your body. Why won't you give it to me now?" 

His fingertips pushed below the waistline of my jeans. "Stop, Ren." 

His tone slipped from sleazily confident to scared. "Don't you want me?"

I shook my head. "You're acting weird," I said. I felt a lump growing in my throat. 

"Weird?" he said, his hands pausing. "I'm..." 

"Don't you want it to be special, Ren?" I asked, turning in his arms so that I could see his face. 

For a second, a shimmer of my Ren came back. Vulnerable and terrified. And then frustration slammed into his expression. "You're acting like a girl." 

My heart went cold but flames burned around it. "And you're acting like your father." 

That did it. He took a shuttering breath and blinked rapidly like I'd struck him hard. The wounded look on his face made me feel like a demon; it was like I'd just told him he had minutes to live. Ren hid his face in his hands, his entire body shaking. Maybe I should have felt pity, but it was decidedly absent in my mind. I can't explain why.