"When I discover who I am, I'll be free."
― Ralph Ellison
I had to re-look up what 'dithering' meant. Why did sixteen year old me know that, but nineteen year old me didn't? Like, girl, please remember what you wrote. Please. That'll make all of this just so much easier.
But my brain says no, the bitch.
Chapter 24:
A Little Holy Water
It's been a week since Conway started to sit at their table and he hasn't left since- unfortunately. He still pissed Bar the fuck off and at first, he tried to flirt with the little goddess but after a few clever and humiliating retorts from Clementine herself, the fucker learned to stop.
The brute was thankful for that much.
He didn't know how for how much longer he could've listened to the brunet make sexual comments and innuendos without knocking the guy flat on his ass but he was sure that it would've been within the realm of 'soon'.
In almost complete opposition, Clementine started flirting with him more.
His little goddess was getting bolder, too, flashing Bar with a cheeky smile before saying something subtly dirtier back to him and occasionally making a comment that made the broken boy want to bend her over his lap and spank her for saying what she did- but equally made him want to take her right then and there.
Bar wanted to kiss her an ungodly amount. He always wanted to.
And, just like he thought, the urge hasn't stopped and he doesn't think it ever will.
It's worse when they're alone, like now.
They were at Bar's apartment, 'studying' as Clementine liked to call it, but really she was just reading and he was being a bit possessive- thoroughly enjoying doing so- and watching her as she got sucked into the world of faeries and politics and lethally structured rhymes that her book brought to life.
He had read the book before, so he knew what it was about and he even had his own copy laying around somewhere.
In every room besides the kitchen and bathroom- but on the balcony, there was a large bookshelf on one of the walls and every single one was filled to the brim with books.
And when Bar ran out of room on the shelves, his tables and countertops and any surface became packed with books, too. He had at least a thousand alone sprawled around his somehow still neat living room and even more in his actual room.
It wasn't his fault that reading had become addicting.
Bar was a book nerd and so was Clementine, but he had a sneaking suspicion that even though he read an exceptional amount, she read even more.
It was fascinating, honestly.
He never met someone who... was so sympathetic towards fictional characters.
He liked reading because he could escape reality without dying but the little goddess- oh, the little goddess looked like she enjoyed reading because it created new people to love, new bonds to make, and secrets to learn.
Watching her read was like watching a whole world be created.
Bar couldn't look away, he couldn't force his gaze to part from her; feeling that, if he did so, the magic he felt would go up in flames.
But, also needing to climb back out of the black hole that sucked his attention away from everything aside from Clementine, Bar stood up from his couch and began to walk towards his kitchen.
"Food time, sweetness," he called over his shoulder.
No response.
Bar paused and turned, knowing she was stuck in her own little bubble separate from him and this world's crushing truths.
He walked around the couch and stood behind the giant cushioned chair that she was perched on- his favorite spot in the apartment and the little goddess being the only one allowed to sit there but him- and placed both hands on the sides.
He bent down, his nose jutting against the warm skin on her neck making Clementine freeze. Smirking, he moved closer and gently bit down a little higher, right below her ear.
Bar enjoyed the way her breath hitched and the way her knuckles grew tighter around the edge of her book that by now, he knew she wasn't paying attention to.
"You didn't hear me, babygirl." Bar nibbled on her earlobe before pressing a fluttering kiss to her forehead as he straightened up. "Put the book down. I haven't fed you in a while."
"I only h-have three chapters left, Oly," Clementine argued, glancing over her shoulder with red cheeks to face the brute. "I-I'll eat after, after I finish."
He, now casually leaning against the bookshelves leading into his kitchen, raises a thick eyebrow in her direction, a challenge. "Will you now? Because I didn't give you that option. I know for a fact that that book is one you have already read before, it's worn out and you have notes scribbled in it and sticky notes marking your favorite parts. So, you won't be missing anything."
"I want t-to read." Her tone was firm but he wasn't having any of it.
"You need to eat, babygirl." Bar's eyes narrowed. He holds out a hand to her, "Come here."
The little goddess shifted her minty eyes away from his dark ones to the brute's hand and Bar could see the inner-contemplation as it went across her face.
Then, fucking then, she says, "Make me." as if Bar would ever hesitate to do so.
With a wicked grin, he marched right up to a now wide-eyed Clementine and grabbed the book from her. He made sure to keep her spot as he set it down on top of five other books.
Bar, without the slightest bit of dithering, encased her small waist with his comparatively giant arm and pulled her tiny body to his.
Clementine gasped, which he ignored as he wrapped his other arm under her thighs before placing her over his shoulder, and beginning to walk. She was light despite her curves and the right amount of cute chubbiness- that always made Bar want to sink between her soft thighs and touch her everywhere.
"Oly!" His girl didn't struggle, which he was grateful for, but she did ball the back of his shirt up into both fists and sound like she definitely was going to put up a fight. "Y-you can't just grab me like that!"
"Yes, I can." Bar says, stepping into his kitchen. "And I did. If you don't eat because you're not reading, then I'm not gonna fucking eat either. So either let me make your pretty not-so-little ass food, or go back to reading and we'll both wait."
Clementine gave him the stink eye, "That's h-hardly fair."
Great, he thought sourly. She'll eat to take care of me but not herself.
"It's fair alright," he grumbled, gently setting her down onto the counter and they locked eyes. "You better start taking better damn care of yourself, babygirl."
Bar was observant, he saw the way she wasn't kind to herself or her body and he hated it.
She was gorgeous, inside and out; Clementine was a fucking goddess.
But she didn't think so- every time he saw that one look in her eye that spoke about how she really felt, or how she didn't eat because she got too busy, or how she let someone walk over her, it broke Bar's heart.
"You're a m-meanie." She responded, arms crossing as she pouted.
"Mhm," he rolled his eyes. "Yeah, me caring about you makes me a real baddie, huh?"
"Y-yep," The little kept up the attitude, which Bar only allowed because he was too busy making her food.
"And me making you eat, that makes me extra bad, yes?"
"Cor-correct."
"Hm... well, there's a good place hell that already has a nice, warm, comfy spot for me down there. Called the throne." He mumbled nonchalantly, getting out the rest of the ingredients.
"If y-you go to hell, I get to- to go to," Clementine announced.
Paused in mid-action of pulling out a pan, Bar purses his lips and looks over at the little goddess. "Why would you want to go to hell, babygirl?"
"Because you'd be there," she said in her best 'duh' tone.
"Right," Bar said, unconvinced. "Is that your way of getting back at me for making you food?"
With a mischievous glint in her minty eyes, Clementine shakes her head.
"I don't believe you." He knew she was up to something.
He got out a bowl and began to mix the ingredients together, shifting his eyes between what he was working on and Clementine, who was swinging her legs on the counter and watching his movements.
"You don't, you don't have to believe me," she giggles out. "But j-just you wait, I'm gonna steal your throne."
"Steal my throne?" Bar says, amused as he clicks on the stove and puts butter on the pan, waiting for it to heat up. "You say that as if I wouldn't give it to you. Besides, to get on my throne you'd have to get on my lap, which I'd never complain about."
"Must y-you turn everything dirty?"
"Yes. How else am I supposed to get you all blushy?"
"There's pl-plenty of things you could do to m-me," she said. "But I, I have to eat, remember?"
Bar rolled his eyes, because of course that's what her mind wrapped back to while his went wildly right down into the gutter.
"Comments like that, babygirl, are exactly what makes me want to make both of your cheeks go red."
"Shut u-up." Clementine stuck her tongue out at Bar.
"Make me, sweetheart."
"Okay, b-but you might moan a, a little." Clementine's response instantly has him go still and a little tense.
The images in his head right now... well, they could use a little holy water.
Slowly putting some batter into the pan without responding, Bar sets the bowl down and turns to face the little goddess.
He walks up to her, drawing out his steps as he maintains eye contact with the quickly reddening goddess. He purposely stands right between her thighs, which earn a gulp of anticipation.
He leans in, arms tucked against Clementine's sides and fitted nicely against her hips, trapping her in as his flat palms rest on the counter.
"You wanna repeat that, baby?" He breaths out, noses almost touching. "Because I, truly, am all game for how you think you can make me moan."
Clementine opens and closes her mouth, seeming to be too flustered to even speak. Her minty eyes were glazed over as she stared at a smirking Bar.
"No? Well, I'll tell you how I'd make you moan." He says. "Hmm, I'd start by pushing your pretty self up against the wall.... marking up your neck and saying nice little things in your ear, just to make sure you know you're mine.... nudging my thigh up in between your legs to mess with you.... hearing those breathy little whimpers and small inhales you tend to do whenever I get too close and feeling your hips start twitching forward... snapping my hands down to make sure your hips stay back against the wall... I'd have to remind you that you can gasp and whimper all you want in response to my touches, but until you open that perfect mouth of yours and properly fucking beg for it, this is all you're going to get. Then I'd make you moan- my name, preferably."
Pulling back, Bar watched the little goddess and how even her nose had gone a bright red, drowning her freckles and making the scar pop out more.
Chuckling, he kisses the corner of her lips before moving back to the stove- leaving his own body irenic, warm, and sinfully turned on. Flipping the batter, Bar looks over his shoulder, finding amusement in the way Clementine was still trying to catch her breath.
He was glad he wasn't the only one affected- he's tired of being alone in things.
"I'm making chocolate chip pancakes, sweetheart," he says, pouring more batter in as he places the ones already done on a plate "Once you're done being a tomato, you can eat."
She takes a deep breath. "I... I h-hate you."
"Mhm, sure." He flips a pancake. "You already told me this, remember? I left you red last time, too."
"I'm, I'm always blushing a-around you." Even with his back turned, he could hear the small and adorable huff that Clementine gave out.
"I know," Bar says, smugness coating his tone like a thick layer of paint. "I love it."
Having a good amount of pancakes, Bar turns off the shove and quickly grabs the syrup and two forks before piling the pancakes into a single plate.
"I'm sure y-you do," the little goddess sassed. "You're not, not the o-one burning alive."
"With how hot you are, yes I am," he smoothly retorts, eyes locked on her with the food in his hands. "One look at you and shit, I'm covered in flames. And apparently, you want to be Queen of Hell, so it makes sense."
Clementine blinks before giggling.
"You're so c-cute, Oly, even when you're a perv." She makes grabby hands at him and Bar instantly obliges.
"But I'm your perv."
He walks forward and places the food next to them, closing his eyes contently as the little goddess runs her hands through his hair.
This was peace...
Being with her- it was easy, it was being able to breathe after years of having fear holding two hands over his gasping mouth, it was freedom, it was forgetting his father and darkness, it was being trapped in her light.
If he could be trapped forever with his girl- her being happy and okay with it, of course- Bar would die enjoying life as a prisoner.
"I love y-your dimples," Clementine confesses randomly a moment later. "Even though, even though you n-never smile, they come out when you grin. It m-makes me happy."
Interesting... but why would dimples evoke that reaction from the little goddess?
"Hmm," he murmurs, eyes still closed. "Why?"
"Because." She shrugged; he could feel it in the way her hands pause in their movements as she plays with his hair. "That means that you're h-happy, so I'm happy."
Happy? When was the last time Bar was genuinely happy; genuinely unafraid for someone's safety?
With the little goddess, he was content- almost happy.
It was almost bittersweet. He had hurt her so fucking much and it made him loathe himself even more. But, given time, Bar thought she could make him very happy and hopefully, he'd get the chance to do the same.
"Well then, I'm glad you enjoy some part of my face," he said. "But they're not nearly as 'cute' as you said. Besides, your freckles are where the real adorableness is at. Not to mention you're gorgeous as hell and-"
"Oly?"
"Yes, babygirl?"
"Stop coml-complimenting me and, and eat," she commands with red cheeks and a lazy smile that widens when Bar lifts his head slightly and kisses one of her sleeved wrists.
"You're bossy but okay," he hums back.
Clementine's eyebrows raise incredulously. "Me, the bossy one?" The little goddess squeaks out. "Right, t-that's so believable."
This time in reprisal, Bar sharply- but gently- bites her now slightly exposed wrist before licking the sting, which makes a shudder travel down the goddess's back.
"You can't just bite m-me like that!" She exclaimed, accosted, and poked Bar's nose.
"Why not, does it turn you on? And I bet you won't be saying that in the future."
"No," her nose crinkles as she lies. "And y-yes I will."
With a mischievous gleam in his eyes, he says, "We'll see about that."
Then, with the both of them having different red hues to their cheeks and comforted by the other's company, they set to eating the chocolate chip pancakes.
If this is how every day could be, with the little goddess by his side, Bar would thoroughly enjoy life.