I drop my eyes again, continuing the tedious task of organizing tinysharp metal objects into tiny sharp metal piles. My fingers are pink from where I keep jabbing myself.
Lament says, “Tell me what’s going on with you.”
“Nothing is going on with me.”
“You’ve been avoiding me.”
“I’m here, aren’t I?”
“You know what I mean. You barely speak to me. At meals, you sit next to Vera or Jester. You’re the last one to our briefings every morning and the first one out in the evening. You won’t evenlookat me.”
My hands still. I deliberately bring my eyes up to his.
“Is this about Venthros?” he asks.
I give a humorless laugh. “Which part?”
“I don’t know. All of it.” He looks like he doesn’t know whether to coax an answer out of me or demand it, whether to be soft or harsh. The two sides of Lament, forever at war. “The ape. The medical room. Master Ira. That bed…” His voice cracks, then hardens. “I’m doing my best here, okay? But I can’t—if something’s wrong, I can’t fix it unless you talk to me.”
“You couldn’t fix it even if I did,” I grumble.
His eyes flash to mine. “What?”
I shrug, though I realize too late I’ve just showed my hand. I try backtracking, but it’s past midnight, and my head is full of him, and I can’t quite get my thoughts to line up the way they should. “I’ve been thinking of talking to Vera,” I blurt. “Asking if she can schedule us to work on different nights.”
He flinches like I’ve slapped him. “Why?”
“To give us space.”
“Why do you want space?”
I try to think of a reply that isn’tBecause it hurts to be around youorBecause I care about you more than you care about me.But I’ve got nothing, so I just give another shrug.
Lament’s voice hardens further. “We’re fleetmates. We’re responsible for each other’s lives. You can’t just shut me out for no reason.”
“Seriously?” Anger pours through me at that, sudden and unexpected. I abandon the screws and shove to my feet. “That’s rich, coming from the man who is aliteralstone fortress.”
“I’m not saying I don’t have my own—”
“No.” I slice my hands through the air. “You’re serious right now? Who’s the one who’s been hot and cold ever since I got here? Who’s refused to acknowledge that we’re partners, and kept a wall up between us, and left me in the dark so many times? You hated me before you evenmet me, and now you actually have the nerve to lecture me about opening up? Like,actually?”
Lament looks taken aback. “I never hated you.”
Another dry laugh escapes me. “Right.”
“I wanted you to prove yourself,” he argues. “I needed to know you were going to take the position seriously—”
“That’s not what I’m talking about, and you know it,” I snap. “When I first got here, I wasscared, Lament. I wanted to belong in the Sixth—I wanted it so badly—and you did fuck all to make me feel welcome. Actually, you went out of your way to make me feelunwelcome. You’ve walked out on me more times than I can count, you’ve been unnecessarily cold, and even when you open up, it’s like I’m always waiting for you to shut me out again. You want to know why I’ve been avoiding you? Because I can’t have what Idowant.”
Lament blinks, the admission echoing against the high metal rafters. I wish I had a Time Stopper so I could set it off and escape the way he’s looking at me. Better yet, I wish I could reverse the clock altogether, take back those awful, humiliating words.
“And what,” he asks hesitantly, “do you want?”
To kiss you,I think.
It’s a knee-jerk answer. The full-blooded truth inside my idiot heart. And now my pulse is pounding with fear, because I’m afraid Lament is going to read my expression and know exactly what sort of traitorous thoughts are swirling in my head. I’m shit at hiding my feelings. Everyone knows it. But these are not the kinds of feeling I can let Lament see.
“Hartman?” Lament catches my expression. “What is it?”
