She blinked, startled.
“I’m not trying to be flattering,” he added.“Just painfullyhonest.”
She continued to stare.It occurred to him,suddenly, that she was looking at him as if he’d said something strange,something beyond the pale of normal interaction, and he had a panicked thoughtthat he was being wrong again.
He knew what happened when he was wrong.
“I mean, I’ve always known that I was horribly ignorant,”Isaac said, feeling a very sudden rush in his chest, as if something hadfinally uncorked and was now flooding through his mouth, unable to be stopped.“I’ve never had much common experience.Books have always been my onlyreference for much of anything that people take as fundamental.I thought Icould be satisfied with my training, my duty, and—and—and I convinced myselfthat my father’s life was worth the discipline and pain and restraint and seclusion.It was all I could do because my life has never been my choice to live.But Inever—it never occurred—”
He fumbled his words, feeling her gaze on him.
“I never truly understood the profundity of my ignoranceuntil ...what happened in the chapel.”He got mad at himself.“Sex.It wassex.Thesexchanged my perspective.It was like—likegaining a new sense of reality.It was like becoming truly aware of myself.Like every moment before then was just shadow, and having sex was my first timeseeing color.”
His words came faster.
“I feel aware now.Truly aware.I want to experience more.More of everything.Morelife.I want to travel the world, I want tolaugh, I want to cry, I want to speak to so many people, I want to accomplishall the dreams I’ve always had, I want to not feel punished for having dreamsat all, I want to do whatIwant, I—I—I—” He couldn’t get the words outstrong enough.“I want everything.You know?Iwant.”
“Isaac,” Zaria said, her grip soft on his arm.
He flinched, realizing how long he’d been talking, thevolume of his voice, how poorly he must appear.Suddenly, all his words seemedpainfully wrong.“Sorry, sorry, forget I—”
“Isaac,” she said.“Are you sayin’ I fucked you so hard itmade you rethink your entire life?”
“Yes, actually.”
She blinked a few times, her expression slowly changing.
“Sorry,” he said, feeling horribly seen and vulnerable.“Sorry, I didn’t mean—forget I said anything, I don’t—”
She tugged him a little closer.“No one’s ever been nice toyou before, have they?”
He tried to answer.The words did not come.
“Not properly, I mean.No love or care.”She searched his face.“Nothing but a cane.”
A knot was rising in his throat.He knew the pain wascoming.That’s all that ever happened.Any time he spoke of himself, any timehe ever hoped....
“You ever had someone tell you you’re good enough?”
He looked down.His face was burning.
She leaned in close.“Have you had a hard life, Isaac?”
The tears came before he could stop them.He tried to pullaway, tried to run and hide, but she came forward, and her arms wrapped aroundhim, and she pressed him to herself, her fur warm and soft, her chin resting onhis head, and she held him gently and completely.
It was the first time anyone had hugged him before.
“Sorry,” he said, feeling small and afraid.“I’m sorry, I’msorry—please don’t—I’m sorry—”
“Don’t be sorry,” she said.
And he wept on her shoulder, hugging her back with all hisstrength, crying louder than he had ever dared before, crying with such a senseof freedom that it only caused him to cry all the harder, her presence ofsafety and warmth making him despair at all that he had never known, all thathad been denied him, and his tears came in such a flood that it felt like hehad saved them his entire life.
Far below the earth, in a lost city of the dead, he huggedher, and she hugged him back, and for a time he did not worry of punishment.
He was not sure when he stopped crying.Time did not seem tomatter.The pale light did not shift.Nothing moved in the city.When he becameaware of himself, he rested his head against the crook of her neck, letting thetears dry on his face.
“I’m so sorry, love,” she whispered in his ear.“I waswrapped in my own concern.I lost my temper.I never meant to hurt you.”
