Less than Perfect by S. J. Evans (love letters to the dead txt) 📕

his heartbeat against her, the thumping beat caressing her. She liked the feel of his heartbeat against her, the feel of being so close to him she felt safe. It was…reassuring

. Touching his face, she felt the structure of it, as if for the first time, and smiled sheepishly when her fingers brushed his chin, one on his lower lip.
He grinned, his own hands hitching her up as she started to slip. They were lost in each other’s gazes for a moment, taking the time they had together for granted.
Eventually, her gaze, slipping away from his face, caught his shoulder and she grimaced. “Your shoulder,” she gasped, letting go of him. “Are you hurting? Oh Jules, I’m so sorry,” she rushed, scrambling out of his arms.
He shook his head, setting her down carefully. “No, it’s okay, Skye. I don’t mind a little pain as long as I’m with you, okay? Besides, it wasn’t that bad.” He smiled, sincerely.
“Are you sure? I mean, I don’t want you hurting—” he cut her off before she could continue rambling, pressing a finger against her lips.
“I’m positive, Trouble,” he confirmed. “Don’t worry about me so much, the pain isn’t too bad anymore. It’s practically forgotten anyways, alright?” He was so calm, his words soft and sweet. It rang the bell of her heart even more, sounding a sound so precious she wished it would never leave. She could feel that song, like a separated beating inside her heart, and everything—all her troubles, memories, the darkness of mourning—fell away.
“Alright,” she agreed. “It’s all forgotten, in the past, left behind, right?”
“Exactly,” he said.
There was a moment of pure silence, a silence so sweet nothing could ruin the moment, and Jules pulled Skye’s hands in his, enlacing their fingers.
“Will you wait for me?” he asked her quietly.
She flinched, laughing a little too uneasily. “Wait for you? What do you mean?” Her small voice carried out into the silence.
“I don’t know,” he stated matter-of-factly. “I just couldn’t resist using the moment, I guess. Gotcha,” he teased, grinning like an idiot.
She shoved his wound-free shoulder, letting go of his hands. “Jerk!” she yelled at him, laughing.
He caught her arm in his hand, raising his brows at her, challenging her. “Hey, I’m just lightening our spirits. There’s no need for name-calling.” He was smug, grabbing both her wrists when she lifted the other arm to hit him. “Nope, not happening,” he mocked.
She glared at him, trying to preserve it long enough to look as a threat but failing. “Let go!” she screamed, laughter finding its way out too.
He was laughing too, the sound of it warming her. “Kiss?” he countered.
Shaking her head, she pulled against his grip, giggling. “No,” she said.
He faked hurt, hunching his shoulders like a disappointed child and frowning. “Aw, why not?” Puppy-dog eyes came next.
She sighed. “Fine,” she gave in.
He let go of her wrists and bent over, leaning in to kiss her. He let it be a soft brush of the lips, giving room for more desire if necessary. But there wasn’t enough time for more anyways, seeing as how the door to her room creaked, someone having entered, and drew them both away from the kiss.
Skye turned around first, gasping silently when she saw who it was.
Johnny stood before them, large arms crossed over his chest, an expression of disappointment painted on his features. “Hello again, Julian,” he addressed to Jules, causing him to turn in the direction of the doorway.
“Hello, Sir.” Jules said, cautious.
Skye felt an unknown tension in the room, imagining that it was coming from both of the men around her. She didn’t let herself tense up or show fear—she didn’t need that, not around Jules.
“Johnny,” she said, cutting in before either man could say more. She not only felt

the tension, but saw

it in both of the men’s eyes as she glanced between the two. Johnny had been staring Jules down, as if he was doing something wrong, and Jules almost seemed to have been challenging Johnny to do something to him, by his eyes.
At the sound of her voice, Johnny looked at her, his expression softening, and Jules grabbed a hold of her hand, the one hanging at her side beside him. “What are you doing in here?” she asked, breathlessly.
He smiled, lips wavering. “I wanted to make sure you were okay, of course,” he said, all too kindly.
She didn’t believe it, not at all. He wanted more, she knew, but she wasn’t going to cross into his side of things. She had Jules; she had too much going for her to be scared any more. She was about to speak, to reply, when Jules squeezed her hand and stepped forward a little, stopping her.
“Well, she’s fine,” he spoke for her. “So if you’ll excuse us and be on your way now…” he trailed off, stepping forward, again and again.
Johnny stood, unmoving, watching Skye. “I’d like to speak with you, Skye.” He didn’t waver at all, only watched her, eyes light and blue. “Alone,” he added, his eyes darting to Jules. His eyes were daggers, daring Jules to refuse.
Skye felt Jules’s hand shaking around hers, and though she didn’t know why Johnny upset him so much, she stepped in front of him, stopping him from objecting. She looked at him, watching his forehead crinkling with anger, and pressed her hands against his chest.
“Jules, it’s okay, he just wants to talk with me,” she whispered, pleading with him. She didn’t know why she was inviting the situation of being around Johnny in, but she also knew that he couldn’t do anything to her in a crowded house, nor did she fear him as she did before. She was trying to be brave, and, in a way, it was to avoid anything going on between Jules and Johnny.
“Are you sure?” he asked, surprising her.
“Of course!” she exclaimed quietly, holding his hands reassuringly. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I don’t know, he just—gets

to me, like something’s…off

,” he said, too quietly, whispering in her ears.
She pulled his head in front of her, kissed him quickly, and patted her hand against his heart. “Nothing’s off with him, I assure you, just go. I’ll be downstairs in a minute,” she told him.
He smiled, quivering a little, and slid past her and Johnny, watching her as he left the room. She’d watched him too, smiling faintly.
Before she could object to it, Johnny had closed the door, shutting them away from everyone else. He turned around, looking at her, a smug smile across his gruff face. “Let’s talk,” he said.
Skye watched, backing away, as he approached her, grinning. Fear found its way into her veins and she was screaming at herself not to panic. “Just talk, Johnny.” She found herself saying, practically pleading, as the back of her legs ran into the side of her bed.
“Of course,” he agreed cryptically, a frightening grin playing about his lips.
She sucked in a breath, watching his large body nearing her too quickly. She didn’t know what to think, whether she had real reason to be afraid or not. Sure, he seemed to be threatening her, but how could he do anything with so many others in the house, aware of him being in there? Certainly, if he did try anything, it would give away everything he had tried hiding before, right?
But if he kept her quiet…
Her blood ran cold.

Saying Goodbye

“What do you have to speak to me about, Johnny?” Skye asked carefully, her body stiffening.
He looked away, thoughtfully, and chuckled a little. “Skylar,” he addressed her, turning to look at her again. Something flashed across his face—anger, regret, maybe, she didn’t know—and he examined her body. There was something about the action that made her skin crawl, shivers prickling her skin. He seemed to notice something about her too, and chuckled. “Are you scared of me, Princess?”
She almost fell against the bed, surprised. Struggling against the fear, she shook her head and crossed her shaky arms, feigning bravery. “What

do you want, Johnny?” she asked again, stronger this time despite the crawling fear that was invading her.
“I just want to make sure that my princess is alright,” he stated. “Are you, Princess?” He fractured the space between them, making it too small for Skye’s approval.
“I’m fine, Johnny.” Testing the waters, she told him something else. “And I’m not your princess, Johnny. I’ve never been your princess.”
It didn’t seem to make him pleased. In an instant, he was in front of her, grabbing her wrists and cocking his head to the side, hot breath bathing her face. “I think you are, Beautiful,” he purred, stroking her face.
Appalled, she spat at him. “You’re wrong, Johnny.”
Chuckling, he pinched the skin on her wrists and pushed her. She fell against the mattress, scrambling to get away from him frantically. He laughed shakily, like a rumble of sorts. Crouching on the mattress, he neared her, gaze locked on her.
She pushed herself farther and farther back, searching feebly for the other side of the bed so that she could leap off, but was brought short of her destination.
Johnny grabbed her ankles, tugging her aggressively towards him. He crawled over her, pinning her down by her shoulder with one hand and covering her mouth with the other. “Make one uncalled for sound and I swear I’ll hurt you,” he growled.
Fighting tears, she nodded her head in impulse. She gagged, the simple act of being so close to him disgusting her. He was repulsive, filling her with only feelings of hate towards him. Whatever he wanted from her, she wanted him to stop wanting it from her. She wanted him to get away from her, set her free. That’s all she really wanted.
“Good girl,” he crooned. Removing his hand from her mouth, he propped himself up beside her.
She gasped for air, fear and anger choking her. Clutching the bedspread for security, she bit bat the urge to scream, knowing he