Skin of a Sinner: A Dark Childhood Best Friends Romance

At least her hair isn’t so ridiculously wonky anymore. She means well and tries her damn best, but I usually end up redoing it for her before we walk to school. If not, I just can’t stop staring at it in all its chaos.

Every morning, I hold my breath to see if she tried braiding it because, unless she brings a hairbrush, there’s no way I can salvage it.

Nothing in this life or the next would hold a candle to her, from her glowing brown Bambi eyes to her plump pink lips. Every part of her is perfect.

I can’t wait to live the rest of my life with her. To see her the second I wake up in the morning and have her by my side at breakfast. To hear her laugh during lunch and smile during dinner. Then, have her in my arms when the lights go out; all that will matter is me and her.

My sweet Bella

I must have done something right in my life to end up here.

It wasn’t love at first sight. Not in the conventional way.

The moment she spoke, I thought she was only speaking words. I didn’t see the net she threw to capture me. But I never fought it. Deep down, I knew this was where I was meant to be.

The easiest thing I’ve ever done is love her.

If I could do it all again, I would do it the exact same way.

I would pick her. Every time.

The End

Dance with me, Princess.”

“I can’t dance,” I breathe, holding on to his hand because I never want to let go of him.

His lips tip up into a grin. “Neither can I. Dance with me anyway.”

“I’ll step on your toes.”

The apples of his cheeks catch the light. “Then I’ll say thank you.”

“They’ll bruise.”

“You won’t see me complain about having your mark on me.”

“Bruises aren’t love marks.”

He leans forward until his hot breath feathers against my ear. “Do you want to test that theory? Give me thirty seconds, and everyone will take one look at your neck and how irrevocably mine you are.”

“I’m not yours.” I am his. Wholly and completely.

“Liar,” he whispers.

“I’m not a liar either.” Lie.

“You’re right. You’re Isabella, my sweet, sweet Bella.”

“I’m not.”

Leaning his forehead against mine, he says, “You can think that, but just know I’m yours.”

“Liar.” Biting the inside of my lip, I smile.

“I am. But not to you. Never to you,” he promises. “Dance with me, Isabella. Let me hold you.”

“I’ll trip.”

With each excuse, his eyes darken. “When have I ever let you fall? If you did, I’d be right there beside you. We’re Romeo and Juliet.”

Frowning, I chuckle. “They killed themselves, Mickey.”

“Do you doubt what I’d do for you, Isabella? If you’re in a grave, I’m in one. I promised you forever. We won’t end in death.”

“You gave me everything else I needed when I was too focused on becoming someone else. And then for leaving,” I say. Mickey tilts his head to the side questioningly. “You gave me the chance to grieve the child I never was and become the adult I want to be.”

I was aimless, in the wrong job, living in the wrong house, surrounded by people who would rather see me fall. I was so bitter and angry from being forced into a version of myself I didn’t recognize, but I became friends with myself. And when Mickey came back, he set me free.

I answer for her. “Ask me to give up anything, and I’ll do it for you, Isabella. As long as I have you, I don’t give a shit about the rest.”

Her eyelids fall close as another shiver racks through her tiny body. “Then prove it,” she says as she opens her eyes.

My lips tip up at the corner. “Always. For the rest of my life.”

“That’s fine, Princess. You can spend your life searching for a reason to hate me, but the truth is, you hate that you can’t live without me. And you know what? I would rather die knowing you wish I were dead than for you to feel nothing toward me at all.” I tip her chin to get her to look up at me. “Maybe I haven’t made this clear: You have never been just a phase to me; you’ve always been the whole picture. Without you, I am incomplete.”

“But your heart is already full,” she whispers, searching my eyes for something I can’t see. “My leaving won’t change that.”

Wiping away her tears, I kiss her cheek. “My heart has only ever belonged to you, little Bella. You. Are. It.”

“What if…” She wets her lips. “What if something happens to me again? We’ll be spending the rest of our lives running from them.”

“It won’t,” I promise. “I’m going straight.”

Then I see her. Bella.

My Bella.

Walking along the street, staring straight at the ground, not noticing the boutiques and offices she passes. She looks so sad. Broken. I caused it.

I narrow the distance, pulling her into my arms and beneath the awning of a cafe, nuzzling my head against hers to inhale her scent. At once, all the voices quieten. I found her. She yelps and tries to fight me, but I ignore all of it because I can breathe again. My heart no longer feels like it will be ripped out of my chest.

“Fuck, I thought I lost you.” I wrap my arms around her tighter, ignoring the people running past who are trying to get out of the rain. “Don’t you ever do that again.” I’m meant to sound stern, maybe scold her a bit. But all I sound is desperate.

She can’t leave me.

She’s never allowed to run away from me.

“Get off of me!” the princess hisses, pushing against my chest.

I don’t listen, squeezing her against me. “I was so worried.” I should be angry at her for sneaking out when I was asleep, but I can’t bring myself to care beyond the fact that I have her back. “I almost lost you twice this week. I won’t let there be a third time.”

She shakes her head against my chest. “Let go of me, Roman!”

Bile lurches in my stomach from the sight of her red-rimmed eyes and the fading bruises when I let her pull away.

“I’m not going back with you,” she says, choking back a sob as a tear falls down her cheek.

“Either I follow you, or you follow me. There’s no version of this where we go our separate ways.”

Bella tries to squirm out of my hold, while also gripping onto my shirt like it might kill her if she lets go.

God, Bella, Bella, Bella. Please.

I can’t lose her. I can’t live without her. Fuck, what if I can’t find her once I’m there? I’ll spend the rest of my life looking for her if I don’t get to her in time. There’s no version that ends without Bella by my side

“Bella, I love you,” I whisper, reaching for her chin while holding a bag of ice. “Please, just look at me.”

Without turning, she elbows me in the jaw when I touch her. I let her hit me. I’d let her kick me and punch me all she likes. I deserve it for putting that bruise on her face. I don’t let her move far away from me. After several careful maneuvers on my part, and several hits on hers, I manage to get her on my lap until her wiggling stops.

She winces every time the bag of ice moves on her face, and I feel every flinch like her pain is my own. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to her—making everything I’ve ever done wrong up to her.