I lifted my face. “How’d you know?”
“I was telling Gaius the same thing.”
My emotions teetered at a crossroads, unsure whether to be anxious or calm. Was Viol serious? I never expected him to open up about that. He kept it even closer to his chest than I did, practically buried between his ribs. Gaius must’ve really pestered him about it. Either that, or something had changed in Viol.
We sat silently on the bathroom floor together for a while. Surprisingly, it wasn’t as awkward as I thought. It felt oddly comfortable—maybe because of our shared butt-on-floor discomfort.
“Hey, Poppy,” Viol said gruffly. “There’s no normal way to ask this, but... is your ass okay? I mean, because you fell on it. When I came in. Because I startled you,” he muttered, each word coming out increasingly quiet.
I let out a soft laugh. It always charmed me when he stumbled over his words. I did it all the time, but it was somehow sweeter when he did it.
“Yes, I’m fine,” I promised. “Is that why you sat down? To empathize with me?”
He shrugged, tossing a thumb over his shoulder. “Sort of. I also got baked out there, even in the shade, so the cold floor’s nice.”
“That does sound nice,” I agreed.
“And Gaius kept offering me these weird drinks. I don’t even know where they came from. Kept pulling them out like a fucking clown car.”
I laughed again at the mental image. “That sounds like him.”
The edges of Viol’s face softened. Somewhere beneath the harsh exterior was the young man I knew from a long time ago. The one with gentle purple eyes and a bright smile.
But that wasn’t quite the face across from me. There were layers of sediment between the two expressions, worn and weathered by time. In my deepest heart, I wondered if he was still there at all—or if his old self had been stripped away from him.
Viol met my gaze evenly. “You seem down.”
“Old memories. You know how it is.”
Viol winced, bringing his hands together to fidget with his index fingers. “Listen, I’m sorry. I was being a dick this morning. I hope you’re not in a bad mood because of me.”
His apology surprised me. I didn’t feel like I deserved one.
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” I pointed out.
Viol scoffed. “Come on, Poppy. Don’t be so damned nice.”
“I’m not trying to be,” I argued. “Really, I didn’t mind.”
He narrowed his eyes as if pained. “I know I made you feel shitty. I freaked out for no reason and ditched you.”
As he spoke, his voice choked. He bit his lip and turned away, staring at the shower on the other end of the room. I could tell he was trying not to cry. Seeing him like that refreshed my own tears, and I wiped them away on my sleeve.
“Fuck. Sorry,” Viol muttered. He dug the heel of his palm into his eyes; like he was trying to hurt himself to disguise his tears. “I’m sick of doing that to you.”
My heart hurt. I wanted to reach out and comfort him, but all I could weakly reply was, “It’s okay.”
“Stop saying that,” Viol snapped, his voice breaking fully as he swivelled to face me. “It’s not. Don’t pretend it is. I’m a piece of shit! I’m a fucking asshole, Poppy!”
I sucked in a small breath. I didn’t want Viol to speak about himself that way. Not when he was somebody I cared so deeply about.
Overcoming my anxiety, I reached across the space between us and grasped his wrist. He stilled beneath my touch. His eyes darted to mine, almost fearful.
“That’s enough,” I murmured. “I don’t want to hear you say those things anymore.”
Pain twisted on Viol’s face. He clenched his eyes shut and dropped his head. A messy curtain of deep purple hair fell forward, blocking his face.
“You’re too much, you know that?” he mumbled, sounding both haggard and fond. “Man... can’t a guy degrade himself in peace?”
