Ryland’s eyes go sad and I start to hate a woman I’ve never met. What kind of mother lets her young son go through such abuse? She’s lucky I don't know where she lives.
“Oh fuck. I died.” Too lost in my anger for Ryland’s lost childhood I allowed marauders to sneak up on me in Dragons Reborn. With my basic armor they took me out easily.
I scramble to regenerate my character in the game, but the last save was far outside the cave we’d been exploring. With the turn our recent topics of conversation have taken, I’m not interested in playing any longer.
“What? Where is he?” Ryland runs his character back to where I died.
“He came up behind me. His name was DashD or something.”
“Head back to base camp and I’ll meet you there. I’ll take care of Dash later.”
My fingers pound on the controller to move my player to the small base camp Ryland and I built the last time we played. Every time you die in the game, it randomly deletes items from your inventory. My heart thumps in my chest with worry as it takes forever to load my character’s chest of items. Images pop up one at a time and I groan once they stop loading. "They took my enchanted sword and fifteen torches.”
“Thank God,” he mumbles under his breath as his character walks into our small cabin.
“What?”
“I mean, oh darn it, not the sword.” He mocks sadness at my plight.
“Ryland, I had a good sword,” I say the words around a yawn and use a hand to cover my mouth.
He logs out of the game and stands. “I told you I’ll get you a better one. Come on. I’ll walk you home.” The crutches lay on the floor at my feet and he picks them up handing them to me.
“I’m pretty sure I won’t be attacked in the private hallway.”
Ryland shrugs and does his cute one-sided smile. “Better safe than sorry.”
I’m better with the crutches, but it still takes me longer to reach my door than it does Ryland with his outlandishly long legs.
“I haven’t complimented you on the rug yet.” He looks down and steps on my flower mat.
“It’s cute, huh?” I grin up at him knowing full well he considers this a violation of the rules.
Ryland leans in closer, his lips next to my ear. “It’s something.”
His words caress against my skin and I suck in air. We haven’t been this close all night and I can’t stop my hand from reaching out to lightly grab his upper arm. My crutch falls to the floor, but neither of us spare it a glance as our eyes lock on one another.
Ryland’s dazzling blue eyes widen in question. He lowers his head leaning over to press his lips to mine. The kiss is quick, over before I process what’s happening.
He steps back and reaches down handing me my toppled crutch. In shock I open my door halfway as Ryland steps away from the entryway giving me room to walk in.
“Goodnight, Marissa.”
