Clutching a wooden bowl to her chest, she drops to the ground at his side. Isn’t she terrified of him now?
“Shall I feed you, or would you prefer to feed yourself?” she asks softly but firmly.
He glances around, but Tharios is gone, and Father’s attention is absorbed by Mother.
“Open,” Arisanna says when he doesn’t respond.
“I can feed myself here,” he hisses.
“Just open your mouth. You’re being a bear. Isn’t that what Elowyn says?”
His lips part in surprise, and she takes advantage of the moment, dropping a whole handful of berries and nuts into his mouth, and he almost chokes.
“Sorry. Maybe that was too much.”
He manages to swallow, and then she’s there with another handful to force down his throat. Over and over, she shovels food into his mouth until his stomach no longer aches and he can think straight again.
Father and Mother have disappeared, though when they left, Cerian couldn’t say. He’s been too absorbed with Arisanna to notice.
She’s...stunning.
“Are you feeling better?” She tucks that burnished hair behind her ear, and the sudden desire to run his fingers through it overwhelms him. He had no idea it was so long.
He blinks a few times to clear his head before nodding.
“Good, because I have something to say to you.”
That’s ominous. He eyes her, waiting for her to continue.
“I didn’t want you to leave this morning. I was trying to thank you for watching over me when I was weak and exhausted and...and vulnerable. I feel mortified thinking about it, but you were there to care for me when I needed you. No judgment. Just...kindness. It...means something to me to know that you...that that’s the sort of...the sort of person my heart is bound to.”
That’s what she was trying to say earlier? She didn’t want him to leave? How much of his conversation with his mother did she hear?
“How long were you watching?” he asks, dreading her answer.
“I saw you plummet from the ceiling. It was terrifying. Your mother is relentless, isn’t she?”
Whistling wind. She was here the whole time.
“And did you hear—”
“Everything.” She looks down at him, her gaze full of nothing but fierce compassion.
Once again, he slides his eyelids shut and groans. The urge to run fills him, but a soft hand on his chest makes him snap his eyes open instead.
“No more running, Cerian. Not from me. Next time, we talk. And if you need space, tell me, and I’ll give you room to breathe. But don’t run. Please.”
He gawks at her. Did they really meet only a few days ago?
“Agreed?” she says when he doesn’t respond.
And he nods because his words seem to have abandoned him.
“Good.” She sets aside the empty bowl. “Your mother is terrifying. I would have caved far sooner than you did.” Arisanna’s lips hint at a smile, and before Cerian can help himself, he smiles in return.
“I’m as shocked as you are.”
“Really?”
