Perry's POV
The clock struck midnight as I finally made my way back to the bedroom. Phoebe lay curled in sleep, her body drawn tight like she was shielding herself from invisible blows. A few scattered belongings were missing from their usual spots—she must have smashed them to pieces.
I didn't give a damn about the broken things. She could tear apart everything in this room if it helped dull her agony. Nothing here mattered to me anyway.
She was all that mattered.
I moved closer, watching how she'd pulled herself into that protective ball, knees drawn up like a child hiding from the world.
"Phoebe..." I bent down and brushed my lips against hers, soft as a whisper. I'd tried to stay away, but the distance was killing me.
Even knowing I was poison to her, I couldn't stop myself. Selfish bastard that I was.
"Let me have this while you can't push me away..."
I traced her cheek with my thumb, tilting her face so I could taste her deeper.
