“I thought you were pretending to not be difficult?” he points out, a spark of mischief alighting in his gaze as he holds a hand out to me like he fully expects for me to take it.
“You don’t know me well enough to surprise me with anything I’d like,” I tell him, ignoring his outstretched hand until he drops it back by his side. “And even if you did…the surprise would be ruined by the fact that I don’t like surprises.”
Suddenly uncomfortable with the way Lorn is towering over me, I stand up. Which might have been a better move in theory than execution, because now I’m practically pressed up against his chest, and his three Wing members all take a cautious step in our direction.
Perfect, Ever. Rub your tits on him and freak out his guards.
Way to think this through.
Lorn holds up a hand to his Wing at the same time we both move away from each other. My face is on fire with embarrassment. I keep my eyes trained on the ground and straighten my outfit while I try to calm my chagrin. My hands are clammy as I run them down the inky fabric of my nice pants to smooth any creases. The trousers fit tight on my calves, loose around my thighs, and sit low on my hips. Nixy told me to pair them with a long-sleeve top that bares my stomach and wraps around my chest and neck with various strips and straps that I managed to get tangled up in until Tove came grumbling to my rescue.
I’ve felt perfectly comfortable in the outfit all day, but suddenly I feel underdressed and unprepared to deal with the Burner heir and whatever it is that he wants.
Lorn clears his throat, and I swear the faintest touch of a blush sits just at the top of the collar of his shirt.
“Okay, we’ve established that you don’t like surprises. How do you feel about gifts?” he asks randomly, and it’s just off the wall enough for me to forget about the awkward tension and look up at him.
“Gifts?” I ask, confused. “Why does that matter?”
“You said I don’t know you well enough to know the things you like. I’m trying to fix that,” he argues.
I stare at him for a second, trying to see what angle he’s playing now, but his face and body language give nothing away. “Well…don’t.”
He barks out a laugh at the stiff admonishment. “Don’t get to know you? Why not?”
“I’m not that interesting,” I counter dismissively.
Lorn’s grin is impish. “I disagree, I find you very interesting.”
“Well…don’t do that either,” I warn, turning to walk out of the alcove and away from whatever is happening here.
Is he flirting? Does he think I’m flirting? I’m not, but maybe I should be, like I planned. Except I don’t know how effective that plan is anymore, not when I’m constantly scrambling to catch up with the Noctis brothers. Even when I think I get ahead of them, they quickly knock me on my ass and show me I was never even close.
I pick up the pace, eager to flee. I don’t like feeling as though I’m ten steps behind them; I need to regroup and think. Of course, I don’t get a minute to recalibrate, because Lorn jogs to catch up with me, his long legs eating up the distance much faster than I can create it.
“If you’re trying to dissuade me from finding out more about you, this isn’t the way to do it,” Lorn declares as he draws even with me.
“Then what will?” I snap, walking faster.
He shakes his head and surveys me as he keeps pace. “What are you running from?”
I scoff. “You. I thought that was obvious.”
“Ever, I’m serious,” Lorn declares, reaching for my arm and pulling me to a stop.
I let him, because I’m supposed to be figuring out how to get closer to Lorn, not dodging him, but it’s so much easier said than done. I feel like my hackles automatically go up whenever there’s a Noctis nearby. My finely tuned survivor instincts tell me to bolt far away and fast, but the answers I’m looking for require connection and closeness, two things that don’t exactly come naturally to me.
“Fine,” I huff after a beat, knowing I need to drop my guard at least a little—or appear to anyway. “What do you want to know?”
Lorn studies my face, his eyes flicking between mine. I’m not sure what he finds in my gaze, but whatever it is, it has the tension bleeding out of his shoulders.
“Nothing too crazy, just all of your deepest darkest secrets,” he tells me casually.
I snort out an indignant laugh. “Oh, is that all?”
“That, and I’d like to circle back to the gift question.”
Another dragon goes soaring by us overhead. The flap of its wings stirs the sweet scent of the flowers all around us.
