She senses me, but doesn’t look up.
“I thought you’d leave,” she says.
I sit up, rub my face. “Told you I wouldn’t.”
She looks back at me. “Do you want coffee?”
I nod. “Yeah.”
She heads to the kitchenette, fills the kettle, flips the switch. She stands there, arms folded, while the water goes from still to boiling. She glances at me over her shoulder, and I know she’s thinking about running.
About what her life could have been like, if it weren’t for this mess.
She brings me a mug, sits next to me, legs folded under. She watches me drink, then wraps her hands around her cup.
“So… Colton,” she says, “will you be gentle?”
“No,” I say. “But I’ll make it good. I won’t do anything you won’t be able to handle.”
She nods, satisfied. “As much as I hate all of this… I’m glad it’s you.”
“I know.”
She finishes her coffee, then sets the mug down. She sits close, so close I can feel the heat from her skin.
“What’s your favorite flower?”
Her forehead creases as she thinks. “Proteas.”
“Alright, protea it is.”
She frowns, her lips pursed. “For what?”
A sigh escapes me. “You will have a crown during the ritual and as you run. I’m going to ask them to make yours proteas.”
She leans in, kisses me, slow and soft. I let her, let her take the lead. Her mouth tastes like bitter coffee and salt and something sweet.
She pulls back, just an inch. “Thank you,” she whispers.
“For what?”
“For making me feel something again.”
I don’t answer. I just hold her, memorize the shape of her, the sound of her heart.
We don’t move for a long time.
Not until I have to go get ready.
She’s mine.
And tonight, I’ll prove it.
Chapter 13: Eve
Theknockwakesmeout of nothingness. Not a dream—my mind hasn’t let me near those in days—but the heavy, endless void where you know it’s your last night alive and you keep hoping the sun might shine.
It’s a hard, clean knock. Not the kind that expects you to answer. The kind that is the answer.
