Abyss (Songs of Megiddo) by Daniel Klieve Read Free Book Online Page B

rolled his eyes again.
    “What?” I mouthed innocently, trying not to laugh.
    “You’re a sadist.” He leaned into the empty space between us to hiss the words into my ear.
    “Shh. It’s just such a special day, honey,” I said, my smile playfully malevolent.
    “This is ridiculous. And why didn’t we wear shoes?”
    “It’s a thing.” I insisted defensively.
    “You’re so full of shit.”
    “Suck it up, princess. It’ll be over before you know it.”
    “That’s what she said.” He replied casually. It was like watching someone who was in the midst of pretending that a particularly complicated magic trick they just performed was, for them, very easy. Clearly he remembered the conversation from the previous weekend, too. I rocked back on my heels, covering my mouth and widening my eyes in a mute mockery of ‘awe’.
    “So you can do things that men can do,” I whispered.
    “You ’d better believe it,” he winked. “When we get to the reception, I’ll even drink a beer. Without retching.” He nodded suavely, before amending: “Well...much.”
    “A whole beer?” I verified, raising a sceptical eyebrow. He shrugged.
    “At least a mouthful.” I returned the shrug, raising my eyebrows and nodding enthusiastically.
    “Okay. I’m impressed. Well done. Clearly you need to get on me. Like... now.” I informed him, managing to succeed in holding a completely straight face throughout.
    “ Just like our first time all over again.” he shook his head. I couldn’t help but laugh.
    “Yeah? You wish I was that easy.” He moved even closer, as if to tell me something particularly private: stepping into my space until my lips were flush with the clean black shoulder of his tuxedo jacket.
    “Yes, dear?” I whispered, still chuckling quietly.
    “I j ust realised: knowing that you’ve basically been getting off on my social anxiety makes you even sexier to me. Is that messed up?”
    “Sure.” I shrugged. “ My kind of messed up, anyway. I hope you’ve got something about it in your vows?”
    “Uh ...I’ll put it...before the bit about how working out a safe-word earlier rather than later brought us closer together, but after the bit about your insistence that all dirty talk conform to AP-style.”
    “What can I say? It’s important to have standards.” I paused, realising that the Celebrant – just close enough to faintly overhear us – was looking slightly uncomfortable. “I think we’re making him anxious, now.” I whispered.
    “ Hot.” Naithe murmured, unable to keep himself from cracking a broad grin. He reached for my hip, sliding his hand quickly down to covertly pinch my thigh through the layered material of the wedding dress, making me squeak and jump slightly. “Hey. Kay. I love you.” He whispered.
    “ Really should have worn the dress.” I mocked, clicking my tongue faux-judgmentally. “You girl.” Stepping back, he rolled his eyes. “I love you too.” I – feigning reluctance –mouthed.
    And so I did.
    I also really... really loved to needle him. I had from the very start. It seems strange that of all the things worth holding onto about our time together, that’s what I remembered the most vividly: how much I loved pushing him and provoking him. Playfully, of course. Affectionately. It was all about that little scowl that washed across his face in the moment before he remembered not to take things too seriously. He had this very precise breaking point, when his neuroses would give way to amusement...like he was futilely trying to be offended by a joke made at his expense – as, of course, he often was – but that he couldn’t help but find incredibly funny. I think I loved him a little bit more every time I noticed it.
    We tried to calm down, but our initial, internal struggles had given way to nervous e xcitement. No longer weighed down by ourselves, we reverted to type. And both of us, unfortunately, shared the habit of behaving like teenagers whenever it