[Red Salvia]: You're Forever Mine

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Mia 9, Connor 11

He could never ask for help. He didn't know how to, and sometimes it made him think something was seriously wrong with him.

Maybe because he had no one to turn to for that. With his parents always gone, he was mostly left alone with nannies and the staff working at their house. People who'd never stay because his mother was paranoid about his father having affairs with them, and his father was strongly against male staff. He knew fully well his wife was fully capable of using them just to crawl under his skin and get his attention.

And so the whole staff kept changing almost every two or three months, and sometimes he'd even go days with no one in their huge house because it wasn't so easy to find replacements.

Sometimes he'd catch a cold, and there'd be no one to get him even a glass of water. He'd go days without a normal homemade meal, he'd hurt himself playing, and no one would stop the bleeding.

That's how he started to grow up by himself. He learned how to make his favorite meals, how to clean his room, and how to take care of himself when he was hurt or sick. And then he'd do it all by himself.

As he grew up, his walls kept getting taller too. Why get close and show vulnerability to people he barely knew and who were going to leave anyway?

Everyone was temporary. Everyone except her.

But even when he wanted to ask her or her mom for help, he could never do it voluntarily. He was so used to doing everything alone, he couldn't open his mouth when he wanted something. The only person he asked for something was Sophia though. He asked her to teach him architecture, because the first time he saw Sophia move her pencil over the white sheet, he fell in love with the sound it made.

He loved architecture with a passion. It was a weird feeling, eerily similar to what he felt every time he looked at his Little Monster.

"My God, you're bleeding," he heard her shrink as she leaned into him and grabbed his hand in both of hers.

They were in the treehouse, trying to finish sewing the heart-shaped pillows. It was an assignment for school - to sew anything pretty, and she'd chosen cloud-shaped pillows so they could later keep them for their tree house. At first, he couldn't care less about it, but when he saw how annoyingly excited the Little Monster was about it, he decided to help.

He looked down, eyeing the cut on his pointer finger - the result of using the scissors while his eyes had stayed on the way Mia moved her fingers to finish the pillow. It was mesmerizing- the way her hands were good at everything. She was great at planting flowers, drawing mazes, gardens, and haunted castles, and now sewing, too.

"How did you do this?" She asked, moving around the small space in the house, looking for the first aid kit. They had one here because Sophia was too insistent about it.

Finding it in one of the small old nightstands, she dropped in front of him, sitting Indian style, the box between them.

"No worries," he said, pressing on the cut with his thumb while his other hand pulled the box open. "I'll do it."

He didn't notice how Mia froze for a second as she watched him pull out a bandage to clean the cut and then wrap the band-aid around it.

"All good," he mumbled before raising his head to look at her with a smile, ready to assure her it was just a tiny cut.

But when her face was all serious, her lips in a straight line and teary eyes on him already, his smile froze.

"What?" He raised a brow, confused.

"You're so good at it. Taking care of yourself."

What? Why? Why did it look like she was about to cry? Shit, did he do something? Was she hurt too? Before he could ask anything or panic even more, she went on.

"Don't be good at it. From now on, don't ever dress your wounds yourself, got it? Whenever you get hurt, just come to me. I will cure you. I will be your medicine, and I will be your band-aid." And then she slid closer to him, leaned in, and looked at him under her long lashes.

Wow, every part of her face was so beautiful, he wasn't sure she was good for his health. In fact, he was convinced that she wasn't, because every time he looked at her, his heart almost jumped out of his chest and he had no idea why. Maybe it was because of her beauty. How could a living person look so...eternal? It didn't make sense to him.

Once their knees touched, she grabbed his head in her hands and stared right through his eyes.

He held his breath.

This Little Monster had no idea about her power. Absolutely none, or else she'd not try to kill him with a touch.

"Got it? Promise me."

If it were someone else, he'd punch them in the face for touching him without permission or for talking to him in that commanding tone. But because it was her, all he could do was nod helplessly. He was sure he'd agree to every ridiculous request she'd make if only she'd keep holding him like that.

And from then on, she'd always carry band-aids in her pockets, and it warmed his heart to know he was the reason for that.

|Chapter Sixteen| Red Salvia

Present

"Okay, ready?" My voice trembles as I stare between the needle in my hand and Connor's face.

I've already cleaned the wound with the vodka he's currently gulping down again and managed to take a good look at it.

It's on his right side, a little above his hipbone. Thankfully, it's not as deep as I first thought, though it's big and scary. I'm confident I can stitch him up, but that doesn't stop my hands from trembling because of my anxiety. Even though I've cleaned him up, there's still so much blood in the tub it's blurring my vision.

"Can you fucking do it already? You've asked that four times, and it's not helping. The needle is gonna go cold again." He says with another sip of the alcohol as I pinch his skin between my fingers, ready to start. Right, I've used his lighter to heat the needle again to stay clear of any infections.

"Sassy for someone who's bleeding to death while his nemesis is the only one to save him." I mumble loud enough for him to hear.

"Sassy for someone who knows her neck can be snapped even when I'm bleeding, and no one will be able to find her corpse."

"We both know your threats don't scare me," I roll my eyes before concentrating on his wound.

Dammit, my hand is shaking like crazy.

"Use that tone with me again, and I won't let you go unscathed."

I look up at him with a raised brow. He's already pinning me with a cold stare and I'm scared to admit, that even that hurts me.

"Why? Will you try to "almost kill" me too?"

"I won't try, I will succeed this time." He says through his teeth, and I realize he's still hurting really bad. "Now go back to stitching me up."

I'm about to open my mouth and tell him to go to hell, when suddenly his fingers wrap around my hand tightly as he presses it against the smooth and warm skin right above the wound.

My wide eyes fly up to his face.

"You've got this." He tells me, his eyes losing the edge suddenly and I really, like REALLY start to think he has multiple personalities.

His eyes are so soft under the dim bathroom lights, that I'm pretty sure I'm right, or maybe he's high, maybe totally drunk. Oh well, he could be everything above all at once.

"Although, your hands feel colder than they usually are. Relax, it's okay."

"I don't want to hurt you," I mumble honestly, holding his eyes.

The corner of his mouth turns up into an emotionless smile as his hold on my hand tightens.

"Isn't it already too late for that?"

For a minute, I freeze, trying to process what he's saying, but before I can read too much into it or open my mouth to answer him, he clarifies.

"I'm already hurting, so you won't top that."

I nod, take a deep breath, mentally preparing myself, and once he let goes of my hand, I slide the needle into his skin.

"Fuck," he hisses, his hands gripping the side of the tub.

I try to ignore the veins on his forearms almost popping out like I've been trying to ignore his smooth abs, destructing V, and very defined six-pack.

If I weren't so concerned about him dying, I'd have taken my sweet time observing his body because as much as I don't want him to know and use it against me, he is a Wonderland I'm ready to explore for decades.

"Are you living alone?" I ask him trying to distract both him from the pain and me from the sight of blood. My fingers still shaking, I keep sliding the needle inside his skin, and it almost makes me want to cry. It must really hurt.

I think he'll come up with a snarky comment or just ignore me, but instead, he gives me an actual answer, taking me by surprise.

"No."

"Friends?"

"Yeah," he says, not offering more.  

"With you being a clean freak, I'd never think you could share a space with other people."

"The rent is cheaper."

I furrow my brows, confused, eyes still concentrated on the wound not to make a mistake, but inside I'm dying to ask him more. Isn't his father supporting him?

As if he can hear my thoughts, he chuckles humorlessly.

"What? Thought I'd be living off my asshole father forever like some parasite?"

I glance up at him for a second, catching him drinking from the bottle again.

Yeah, definitely drunk.

"I don't know." I shrug slightly. "I guess I was not expecting you to ever worry about money."

"Yeah, well. It's way better than living on a leash."

"Were you living on a leash?" I mumble, but what I don't say is the word "still" because I know all about his father's strict rules and methods.

Connor's face is void of every emotion as he stares at me silently, letting me know he's not going to answer that.

I find it scary how he can go from everything to nothing at all in a blink of an eye, because not even a minute ago, his gaze was so soft I thought I could melt from it alone.

Clearing my throat, I decide to let it go, and finish what I'm doing.

"Anyway, then why didn't you at least ask your friends for help?"

"They aren't home and I didn't want to worry them for something so small," Connor admits before taking a sip from the bottle.

"It's not small. You're hurt. Stop brushing things that happen to you off like they don't matter."

"I'll get over it. No need to exaggerate."

"No, you have to hear this. You can hurt too, and that's okay. You can complain and ask for help too. I thought you'd be over that by now."

He's always been the smartest and most mature kid any parent could ask for. Even when he fell down as a kid, he'd not complain or cry about it. He'd not even ask for help; he'd just grab the nearest kite and put a band-aid on it himself.

At first, I admired him for that. But later, as I grew up, I realized why he was the way he was. He was always neglected by his parents, both of them using him as a trophy in front of everyone  or a tool to get back at each other. But most of the time, he was alone.

The realization always broke my heart. And so I started to keep cute band-aids with me every time we were hanging out. I didn't want him to feel alone, I didn't want him to act like an adult, and most of all, I wanted to be the one he went to complain, the one who'd help him heal.

Back then, I really thought I was healing him.

In fact, even after he left, I kept carrying a band-aid with me for a while, not ready to let go of him just yet. But after the call, during my darkness, I burned every band-aid I could find in our house and never carried them with me again.

"Old habits die hard, Little Monster. You, of all people, should know it."

"What do you mean?"

"You're still the biggest liar I know."

"You're wrong. I've never lied to you." I finish closing the wound and snap the thread a little harder than necessary, making him wince and grab the side of the tub again. And that's when I see it.

My bracelet wrapped around his palm and fingers. He must have let go of the tub and was playing with it to relax or something while I was busy stitching him up.

Suddenly, it feels like the air is finally back into my lungs because up until now I was doubting whether he was lying about having it or not. Now that I know where it is, I can finally breathe, even if he's the one holding it now.

I don't say anything though, deciding I will take it from him once I finish it all, so I finish disinfecting the wound one last time and then start to gather everything back in the kite. 

"You did it all the time." He says, his voice like a calm before the storm because that's what happens next. A hurricane that runs through my whole body.

His right hand, the one that's still holding my bracelet and that's still covered in his own blood, reaches out to grab the collar of my shirt and jerk my whole body to him.

I gasp surprised before my wide eyes find his in the dimly lit space, and I almost burst into flames from the way he's staring back at me with intense concentration.

The first aid kit drops on the bathroom floor, the items spilling out of it, as he tags again so my body now leans over the side of the bathtub, the cold iron pressed against my stomach making it uncomfortable for me to breathe.

"What ar_" I am starting to say, but all words die in my mouth, when his pointer finger starts to caress the skin a little above my shirt maddeningly slow.

Oh, God, he has to be drunk, right? There's no other explanation for what he's doing right now, and as the more responsible adult, I need to stop him, I know I do, but all rational thoughts are quickly flying out of my head when he keeps moving his finger, tracing the hollow of my throat.

"You lied to me with your words," he whispers, leaning into me, even closer and stressing every word with a firmer touch. His eyes lower to follow the movement of his finger, and when he notices the goosebumps on my skin, he smirks with a satisfied smile.

Prick.

"You lied to me with your actions, your fucking touch. Making me believe you wanted me when all you ever wanted was to keep me around you like a pet. How are you different from the rest of them?" He finishes, resting his finger on my pulse and applying a little pressure.

By now, I'm internally hyperventilating, because this is the closest we've been, ever, and confused because I have absolutely no idea what he's talking about.

"Connor," I start, and I don't miss how my voice trembles, even though he's still not looking at me, but is watching the movement of his finger on my skin.

"You've lost a lot of blood, and you're drunk. I have no idea what you mean. Please, let's talk when you're sober and fully conscious." I try to pull back, but he stops me by wrapping his fingers around my neck and holding me in place.

It causes my bracelet still around his fingers to dig into my skin as his thumb replaces his pointer fingers but with more pressure now.

"You all but fucked with my head, more than anyone else, and then you have the audacity to pretend you were the victim." He ignores me, pulling me closer and closer, so our lips almost touch.

I wince when the pendant digs a little too hard into the side of my neck, and the sound makes his eyes slide up and hold mine.

"You're hurting me." I try another way to convince him to let me go, but even to my ears, I'm not convincing at all.

"A fucking liar." He mumbles with a cruel smirk. "You'd almost convince me, had it not been for your crazy pulse under my fingers. Your reaction to me is different now, I wonder why."

"From what? It's different from what?"

"From before."

"Is it though?" The words fly out of my mouth before I can stop them, and the moment they do, it's as if he's been unleashed. He takes my lower lip between his and tugs at it with his teeth, making my mind go blank because Jesus, it's like heaven. The pressure is rough and nothing close to being considered sweet and romantic, but I'm on the verge of losing my mind.

I realize it shouldn't make me want to ask him to keep doing it until my last breath and it definitely shouldn't make me want to do it to him too. It's too taboo and scandalous for me, and yet it feels like I've not been fully living before this moment.

This is the hottest thing I've ever shared with anyone, and we're not even kissing properly yet. So how can this already make me crave more?

He keeps assaulting me with his teeth as if daring me to be the one to kiss him first, but he doesn't even know how far gone I am. It's like an out-of-body experience that I can't believe is happening between him and me.

I let out a sigh instead, my hands itching to wrap around his neck and give in.

But oh God, no. I can't do this. It's so wrong. So wrong on so many levels.

I still have Jack and trust is all we've got in our relationship. Even though he knows I don't love him, I can't do this to him.

Most importantly, I can't do this to Connor and what we have.

When I kiss him for the first time, I want it to be special, I want it to be without any guilt and regrets. When I kiss him for the first time, it will be pure, innocent, and insanely beautiful.

I've been dreaming about kissing him ever since I knew what it was. I've been always dying and living only for him and I can't poison us, because what I'm feeling, what I've been feeling for him all these years is so pure.

I turn my face to the side, even though it's killing me inside. I'm a breathless disaster and I'm pretty sure I can taste my own blood on my lips.

My movement makes Connor freeze, and I'm not sure whose heart is racing faster, his or mine?

I feel his warm lips hover over my cheek, but I don't have the courage to turn my head to look at him, because the second I do, I will mess it up and kiss him with everything I've got.

"I can't...I can't, Connor. Not like this." My voice trembles, imitating my whole body. "I still have Jack in my life and I'm not a cheater. When I ki_"

Before I have the chance to explain more, his hand wraps around my throat as his mouth crushes on the left side of my jaw. I'm still trying to process what's happening, when my fingers sink in his hair, intending to push him back, but instead, I'm only bringing him closer and inching toward his mouth.

His teeth dig into my bone, as he starts sucking on my skin there and then licking, and then doing it all over again as if trying to make his bites less painful.

But that's the thing. The pain he inflicts is what I crave, it's what makes me feel alive. More than I've ever been in my life.

God, I must be sick.

I'm about to throw all rational thought out the window and tell him I didn't mean what I said a second ago, when all of a sudden his lips and teeth leave me, making my eyes fly open, ready to beg him to do it again.

"What? Why did you..."

Stop...

My words die on my lips the second I turn my head and look at him. Gone is the intense and burning look in his dark green eyes that I witnessed a second ago, instead there's only malice and victory.

He looks like a cruel God that has just won a war and he definitely did because I've never felt defeated like this from a single look.

"Good luck explaining that to your fucking boyfriend." His lips curve into a vicious smile before he leans back against the tub satisfied.

The green eyes that have been my safe place ever since I was a kid, are now tearing me apart piece by piece as they fall on my face with a mocking glow in them.

No way... He didn't...

My blood freezes in my veins the second my fingers land on the side of my jaw that his lips were on a second ago and the reality starts to slowly sink in.

I've just been marked by him.

***

Author's Note

So this happened! Muahahahahha! Internally screaming, because I have been waiting to share this scene with you sooooo much! Did the chapter help you understand Connor better? Do you think Mia was right to turn him away? What the hell is going to happen now? Yes, you can ask me anything and fangirl along with me, but I don't promise to answer those questions!

Also, omg did you notice the new chapter art for Connor and Mia? I'm honestly in LOVE with it because it's soooo them. There are also some key hints in there, by the way, so maybe you can guess?

Argh, I'm sooo looking forward to sharing more of their story with you. It's going to be soooo different from Kai and Selena's story and HOTTER! Honestly, you might not realize this yet, but Connor and Mia's story is the most intense and dark one from my "Memories" series, even though they are the youngest.

Anyway, hope you guys liked the slightly longer chapter and hope the wait was worth it! More updates are coming soon! See you next time! PS I didn't have time to properly review the chapter, will do it asap though!

Much love, Mel