That had been the same day I’d tried to talk to Delphi, and it had gone so spectacularly wrong, it still hurts to think about - even if I can understand why she reacted the way she had.
Before I know it, I feel suddenly exhausted. The lock on that old trunk of uncomfortable memories must have come loose, because I feel so incredibly drained from just trying to shove them all back in right now. My head is heavy, and I only really realize it after my cheek is already pressed to Aloryk’s warm bicep, my head leaning on his shoulder. I’m normally better at this. Sure, no one’s life is perfect. Everyone has memories or thoughts that they’d rather not confront, but I’d practically gotten ignoring my own baggage down to an artform. Sometimes, things would slip into my periphery, but I’d foundthat not making conscious eye-contact with it would mean it would fade away.
Just like my dad.
But here I am, God knows how many miles away from him -from planet Earth- and it’s now that I start thinking about that time in my life?
I close my eyes and slowly take in a deep breath. My Dad and his ‘proper family’ aren’t here. I do not need to let my mind wander down those old, thorny paths. But even after shoving all my personal shit back into that locked trunk, I can still hear the pitter patter of raindrops on the sides of the tent in my childhood back yard.
“What are you thinking?” Aloryk’s deep rumble asks me.
“I’m thinking the rain isn’t so fun anymore,” I tell him, lifting my head from his shoulder now. I notice all his little skin lights buzzing chaotically at the loss of contact like a cluster of ants after you lift a plant pot they’d been sheltering under. I huff out a quiet laugh at that, only to look up and see violet eyes watching me so incredibly closely.
His gaze flits over my face, dropping down to my mouth before he asks, “what can I do?”
I’m taken back a little by the question. It feels like he’s taken a peek inside that trunk in my head and I’m not sure I like that feeling. I hug my knees tighter even though the position is uncomfortable to someone of my size - I just want to make myself smaller right now. Smaller, and smaller, and smaller, until I’m hardly noticeable at all.
And that’s not normally like me. It’s just what happens when I think of my dad and all that mess. Besides, looking like me; a plus-sized girl with colorful hair doesn’t exactly lend itself well to fading into the background like I want to right now.
“What can you do?” I repeat Aloryk’s question, my eyes now fixed on his lips for some reason. He nods, leaning ever soslightly closer. I can feel the heat of his proximity, smell the spice of his skin. Inexplicably, I think of kissing him, and it feels like his heat starts melting into me before I whisper, “You can’t stop the rain, Aloryk.”
One side of his mouth lifts. “Maybe not.” His eyes trail down my frame making me feel a little fidgety as I try to curl myself even smaller. His gaze meets mine again before he says, “but you will always have a place of shelter beneath my wings.” He stares at me so earnestly then, no hint of that dazzling smile, just some of his ‘skin-stars’ slowly fading in and out of brightness.
“Thank you,” I tell him, my chest feeling tight because it doesn’t really feel like we’re talking about the rain.
Is that stupid?
That’s probably stupid.
I can feel the blush creeping up my neck so I look away, the pitter patter of raindrops now sounding different from under the canopy of his wing somehow. They don’t sound like that old tent anymore.
I reach my hand out from under Aloryk’s protection and feel the water fall on my palm and fingertips. “How are your wounds?” I ask, feeling his gaze on me and wanting to steer the conversation away from… whatever it is Aloryk is doing to make me feel so flustered.
I hear the inhale beside me. “They will be fine.”
* * *
Aloryk’s wounds are not fine.
The rain continued on and on for what seemed like hours. After a while, Aloryk somehow convinced me to tuck myself right into his wing - properly wedging myself between his shoulder and his feathers. It was a pleasant place to be, I won’tlie. My cheek was pressed to the skin of his shoulder blade and I was wrapped in a blanket of soft, pretty twinkling feathers. He’d wanted me to sleep back there, but I couldn’t help think it must be uncomfortable for him. I did manage to rest somewhat - even if it wasn’t a deep sleep. But by the time the rain stopped and I’d crawled out from beneath the cloak of black feathers, Aloryk’s usually bronze-toned face was looking pale and pallid, his expression looking pinched.
“Why didn’t you tell me the pain was getting bad again?”
He looks at me with a long, glazed-over expression before shaking his head. “The healers will see to my injuries. I am well.”
He is definitelynotwell. How long had he been sitting here suffering while I stayed tucked up in his wing leaning on him to rest? “We need to find some more of those plants Tryk got for you,” I mutter to myself, stepping back, my foot instantly getting submerged in a rainforest puddle, soaking the hem of my PJ pants all over again. “Those little yellow flowers for pain, and that other stuff.”
“Polly-”
I start looking around our surroundings like the two specific medicinal plants we need will magically be right here. “I bet the swimming and the rain washed it all away from your wound. I’ll find some more and chew it up again.”
“Polly-”
“I think I can remember what they looked like-”
“Polly!”
Aloryk starts to stand, to go after me and reach for my hand, stopping me in my single-minded tirade about finding these damn herbs. But the big guy falters on his feet and I find myself coming back to help steady him. “Ok, ok, sit back down,” I urge, fussing over this giant warrior man like a mother hen.
