“H-h-how do you mean?”
“He gave me oral sex, Number Thirteen.”
I blink at her.
He gave her oral sex.
He gave her oral sex?
I try to stop my mind from spinning, but there is no holding back. Tears well under my eyelids, and I want to swipe them away angrily while cursing to the roof. I don’t even know why it affects me. I am weak for allowing myself to warm up towards a man that’s really given me nothing but pain. Yet it’s affecting me.
I’m jealous.
Insanely jealous.
“Well, okay,” I finally manage to rasp out.
“So, what I’ve made from all this is that he’s playing now with two of w wm">us. He’s kissed you, and he’s...well...you know with me. To me, a kiss is so much more personal, so I wonder which one of us he is warming towards.”
A kiss is more personal? Is she serious? He didn’t put his mouth on me like that. He gave me his hands, but he didn’t...He put his mouth on her...on her...God, I think I’m going to be sick.
“We don’t have time to analyze this now,” I mutter.
“The thing is,” she says nervously, “is that I figure it’s kind of simple. If you don’t want him, then you can step away, and make this easier. So, what I’m really asking you is, do you want him, Number Thirteen?”
I spin towards her and snap, “Have you seen him, Number Twelve?”
“Of course I have.”
“No, I mean really seen him. Without the mask.”
She shakes her head, looking completely confused. “No...but...”
“He’s disfigured. He’s got a ruined eye, and he’s missing an eyebrow. His skin is all burned...”
“What?” she whispers.
“You think you know what you’re doing here, but until you know all of him, then you can’t possibly want him. You want the idea of him. It’s two different things.”
“And you still want him, even after...you saw that?”
“That is a person, Number Twelve. A person who is damaged, and broken, and has a reason behind everything he does. That is a part of him, and it comes with the package that is William. So to answer your question with full honesty, yes, I do want him even after I saw that. Because he let me see all of him when he showed me that, and all of him is something I want to explore further.”
She stares at me for a long moment, and then murmurs, “I want all of him, too.”
“Well, then I suppose we’re in a bit of a situation.”
I’m angry with William, but I’m not going to show her that. I don’t want her to see she’s hurt me, because really, it’s not her fault. He’s the one playing around, and playing around is something I won’t give in to easily. I don’t want to be with a man who can’t choose, and I certainly won’t be fighting for him if he’s not interested in fighting back.
“We need to go get prepared. We have to clean up for tomorrow night,” she says, sliding off the bed and walking towards her.
I guess she doesn’t want to talk about it further.
I can’t say I blame her.
“Okay,” I say, staring out the window.
Where does this leave us?
WILLIAM
“Number Thirteen tonight,” I order George as I pull off my shirt and lean down, gripping my pajama pants.
“I’ll go and retrieve her.”
“Thank you.”
When he leaves, I strip off my pants and pull my sleepwear on, then I walk over and light a few candles before flicking off the lights. Number Thirteen and I haven’t spoken a lot. In fact, she barely looked at me today when I checked in on her group to make sure they were setting up right.
Something is off.
I’m going to find out what it is.
“Here she is, sir.”
I turn and see Number Thirteen walking into the room. She’s watching me, but her face is expressionless. Her long, blond hair is curling and dropping around her shoulders before trickling over her breasts. She’s wearing a white nightdress that sits just above her thighs. She’s only tiny, and it looks far bigger than her.
“Come, sit beside me.”
She looks at George, and he flashes her a quick smile before leaving. Slowly she begins to walk over. She stops next to me, and stares down at the couch. Realizing she’s not going to sit easily, I reach up and take her hand. I notice she flinches and pulls her bottom lip into her mouth, turning away. I tug her and she comes easily enough, falling onto my lap.
“Number Thirteen, something is wrong.”
“That’s not my name,” she whispers.
“Is that what the problem is?” I murmur, running my nose up her neck. She shivers.
“No,” she mumbles. “I don’t have a problem.”
“Do you remember what I said about liars?”
“I’m not lying to you, William,” she seethes, stiffening.
“But you are, because I felt it today. I felt that you were angry, and you didn’t look at me. I don’t understand what I’ve done wrong. I’ve opened up to you, Number Thirteen.”
She spins to me. “Are you serious?”
“Completely.”
“You’ve opened up to me? You’ve given yourself to me? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”
“How many people do you think see me like this?” I grind out, feeling my body stiffen.
“I don’t know. Maybe I should ask Number Twelve.”