I’m not ready to leave this feeling.
Desperation pushes me to remind him, to buy myself more time.
I take his hand from my face, where his fingers caress down my cheek, then stroke into my hair.
I bring my fingertip to his palm.
The only way I can think to communicate in the total blackout is this. A way me and the other Snakes would give messages to each other when we were young, and I wasn’t hated.
Now, I share a code with Eric.
My finger grazes the letter N—then swipes, as if to wipe the letter away before I etch the next, O.
First word down, and something about what I’m doing lures him in closer.
His forehead rests on my head, like he’s a lover curving over his beloved.
I bite down on a smile and finish the message.
‘NO BED’.
His smile is slow to fade.
I feel the furrow of his frown drag over my head to my temple.
For a heartbeat, his thumb just grazes my fingers lingering on his palm.
I repeat the message, then after a swipe, add in another few letters.
‘ASTA.’
It reminds him.
A mere heartbeat passes before his fingers firm around mine.
He tugs, once.
Come with me.
Before I can even reach down for the underwear ripped and loose on my ankle, the warmth of his body against mine is stolen.
He steps back.
I lean into him and kick up my shoe to my backside.
Reaching around my spine, I snag the torn knickers from my ankle, then stumble into the blackout corridor with him.
He guides me.
Shoulders grazing along the wainscotting, his fingers are hooked, firm, around mine, and he leads me back to the Living Quarter.
The heat of fireplaces in total darkness swallows me up—and so I know we are in the grand parlour.
But his steps curve right instead of left.
He takes me towards the staircase that leads to the boys’ dorms.
My face furrows, a crumpling frown that creases more and more the closer we get—until he’s taken a step up the stairs, and my stilettos scuffle to keep up.
