Unlike her own pale complexion. Xia was born of the sea and moonlight. Her features were leached of color. She’d often felt like a wraith in the halls of Club Hel in more ways than one as Tor would usher her to and from his Playground.
Fire danced in his navy eyes, and he looked as fierce as a warrior bathed in its light. His eyes narrowed as the words churned in his mind, the battle he fought to choose them evident.
Where to begin? She wasn’t sure either, but wanted to ease the waging war he fought. “I’m sorry you had to see me like that. On the beach.”
Monster.
Xia feared his disappointment, so afraid that he’d seen the monster and could no longer seeher. Xia turned her face to the crackling fire. She didn’t want to hear the disparaging words sure to follow, so she continued. “He’d changed. I could see it in his eyes, Brooks. He–” she stopped, tears gathering as she recalled the crazed look in the Devil’s eyes in that cold bathroom. “He was going to kill me this time.”
The fire banked as ice swept through the room. Xia glanced around for an open window or a hole in the makeshift lodging, but when she found neither, she pulled her knees in and wrapped her arms around them. Brooks shifted, and warmth hugged her skin as he placed his jacket around her shoulders. He didn’t offer words of defiance or comfort, just an act of kindness. And it meant more than declarations ever could.
Encouraged by his presence, she continued. “He held my head underwater. I should have just pushed the water from the tub or away from my face, but I was so scared, Brooks. I couldn’t think straight. I just… panicked.”
She took a steadying breath, pushing away the memory. You could tell a story without dredging up feelings, and she was intent on doing just that. Xia vowed that night toneverfeel so powerless again.
“He got called away, but swore he would be back to finish me. I considered staying. Lying there in wait for what was to come. Or even taking fate into my own hands, to die with a sort of dignity only I could give. But instead something happened. A darkness rose in me – so cruel and vile.”
Monster.
It was then she looked at him, to face whatever judgment he would cast upon her as she released her truth. “There’s a darkness inside me, Brooks. A monster that I’ve never let out of its cage because I’m so scared it will destroy me.”
Xia stopped to swallow, to breathe, anything to calm the tidal wave of anxiety driven by a lifetime of trauma. She turned her gaze back to the fire but found it disappearing behind a wall of shadows black as the void. Her skin was too tight. Her chest caved in and refused to let her lungs fill. What had she done to deserve any of it? The curse of her darkness. The wrath of the Devil. The sea of nightmares. It was too much.
It was all too much.
Just as she approached the edge of that depthless hole of despair, a warm hand brushed against her own. Fingers slid between her clenched hands and gently urged them away from where they clawed at her legs. His grasp was firm and reassuring as he laced their fingers together and laid them in his lap. Brooks didn’t say anything. He didn’t use words of placation or try to convince her that there was no monster inside. He didn’t persecute or judge. He simply watched and waited, offering a wall of strength for her to lean on as she crumbled.
Xia let the trauma roll through like a hurricane. Sobs wracked her fragile frame as she allowed herself to finally just…feel.
She buried her head in her knees and fell apart until she hit the bottom. The anxiety of being without purpose. The sickening dread when Phobetor and his brothers landed on Anthemoessa. She mourned her sisters and let the pain of their loss break the dam holding back her sorrow and despair. As memories washed over her, she relived Phobetor chaining her to the floor, Molpe spiked to the wall of Level Desecration, and Geia thrown from the sky when Morpheous decided he had no use for her anymore. The splintering of bones and sinew rang through Xia’s mind as she replayed the cracking of her ribs over the bathtub.
Xia let the memories rise like the tide before washing them away. When she was silent but for a few hiccupping breaths, Brooks released her hand to brush a few stray strands of hairbehind her ear. Running a thumb down her cheek, he hooked his fingers beneath her chin and pulled to lift her head.
“Don’t look at me,” she whispered. “I’m a mess.” Her eyes and lips were swollen, tears and nose drippings covering her cheeks and chin.
“Yeah,” he whispered, his voice gruff. “But you’re my mess. And I’ll take you however you come. Whether it’s whole or in pieces, you’re mine.”
He watched his Siren until something like awe fell over her features. Her red rimmed eyes were swollen, flames from the fireplace reflecting and dancing in unshed tears as her head shook almost imperceptibly. She huffed a small laugh as the corners of her lips rose. “Where have you been all my life?”
Just like that, Brooks was thrown back into the asylum where he and Xia bonded through their trauma. She appeared in his mind when he desperately needed a ray of light in the dark. So he smirked and did his best to give her that same feeling. “In your wet dreams, baby.” He followed it with a wink for good measure.
A snort of laughter burst from her swollen lips, and she slapped a hasty hand over her mouth to cover the sound. Xia tried to peer through the shadows to see if she’d woken anyone, but they were impossible to see through.
“They help with the sound.” Brooks gestured around before Xia landed a punch to his shoulder.
Brooks mocked disbelief and covered his arm. “My lady,” he said aghast. “You wound me!”
“Shhh!” Xia exclaimed, struggling to hold back her laughter as she pushed at him. “You’re going to wake someone, and I will not help if they want to fight you over it.”
“I told you, near sound proof.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Her lighthearted banter pulled his heart strings. He’d decided a long time ago in that dreadful fucking asylum that he’d do anything to hear her laugh for eternity. It was about godsdamned time he started making good on it, repaying her for every time she’d saved him.
Stray tendrils of darkness curled around her arms and drifted upward until they caressed her face. She leaned into their touch, closing her eyes as she nestled against them. Brooks felt the touch of her skin through them as surely as if it were his own hand.
“How are you doing this?” she whispered.
