After several moments, she straightened and resolved that she didn’t need him to complete this assignment. He obviously didn’t want to be a team, and she obviously didn’t need him.
44CARVER
Carver sat on the bed, stunned that Clara would disappear without telling him. They were supposed to be partners. They were supposed to do this together. Together they would be strong, invincible, able to cope with everything that would inevitably be thrown at them.
He messed up when he tried to cut her out of the assignment. He told her he didn’t need her. He said things that would hurt her, that were meant to hurt her. Guilt weighed heavily in the pit of his stomach, but on the other hand, wasn’t it a lot for her to expect that he would casually accept her killing a bunch of people? She knew he never killed anyone. She should know he wouldn’t be okay with this. Was what she said truly Command’s view on the situation?
He didn’t know how much time had passed before Marsh knocked on the door, but the sun had already descended and he was hungry. She let herself in, and sat next to him on the bed without a word. “She just left.” He said evenly.
“Maybe that’s your answer.” Her voice was soft as she replied, but Carver could feel the question in it. If the reason he wasn’t with Marsh was because he was in love with Clara, and Clara had made her decision, what was stopping him?
His gut told him it was a bad idea. Anything to do with Marsh would inevitably lead to heartbreak on both of their parts. He would be leaving as soon as the assignment was over, and they would never see each other again. Clara would never forgive him if he had anything to do with Marsh.She won’t forgive me anyway,the voice in the back of his head reminded. And, it was true. Clara had already chosen. She decided on her own she didn’t need him. She had become someone he couldn’t protect. Maybe it was okay.
He used every justification that ran through his head as reason enough when he slipped his arm around Marsh’s shoulder. She nuzzled into him. “I know I’m not her. I’m okay with that.”
If the words were meant to assuage his guilt, it didn’t work. But he didn’t care anymore. He didn’t care. None of it mattered. They’d finish the assignment and all three of them would go back to the lives of hell that war created.
He pulled Marsh closer, and for a moment allowed himself to just enjoy the comfort of being with someone. It wasn’t something that had happened in the last three years. He was so focused, so driven, so intent on not thinking about Clara that he hadn’t let anyone else in either. It was time for that to change.
His stomach rumbled, and Marsh laughed, standing and pulling him with her. “Let’s get some food.”
“Works for me.”
She didn’t let go of his hand as she pulled him down the stairs and out the door. Thoughts of Clara came rushing back when they entered the bar he had attempted to save her in, but he recalled how that story ended—with her hating him even more. His every attempt to protect her or show her he cared was thrown back in his face, so maybe it didn’t matter. Maybe none of it mattered. Maybe he should give up.
So he held Marsh’s hand a little tighter, and squeezed in on the same side of the booth with her. The guilt in his gut was mounting. He was using her to forget someone else, exactly what he had avoided doing for the past three years. But she knew he was doing that, and she chose him anyway. What did that say about both of them?
She leaned against his arm as they ordered, and he relaxed. The loud sounds of the bar drowned out the thoughts he was trying to remove anyway, and he forced himself to focus on the present. He ignored Clara, ignored the assignment, ignored all the chaos constantly plaguing his mind.
“I’ve never done anything like this.” Marsh said as their drinks arrived.
He took a sip of his, and it was strong. “Like what?”
“I’ve never been on a date–never had someone that I genuinely cared about. Actually, that’s not true. I went on a date once. He was from here. He was so proud of everything that Noxvalis was achieving, and my stomach churned the whole time he was talking. All I could think was how little he cared for the lives that were being so fully disregarded. It was irrelevant to him. What are a few lives for the sake of progress?”
“I’ve only dated one person.” He offered, trying to relate to her.
Her eyes widened, and he saw his mistake, “Clara.”
“Yes. We dated, but only because we ended up practically living together. It was all neat and tidy. Perfectly arranged, if you will.” He tried to laugh it off, but he could feel the tightness in his smile.
“Okay, moving on.” Marsh took a big gulp of her drink, “What’s your favorite color?”
He laughed, “What do you mean?”
“I mean, we’re sitting here. We have at least some form of attraction to each other. We both have elephants in theroom we’re trying to avoid, so I’m suggesting a safe topic of conversation that will steer clear of all things gray.” She gave him a pointed look, “If you say your favorite color is gray I might actually hit you.”
“No, no. My favorite color is orange.”
“Orange? What shade of orange? Like the fruit?”
“Like the sunset. When the sky looks slightly burnt. In between the orange and red as everything begins to fade.”
“Why?”
Because, Clara and I would watch the sunset together. Because, she would lean her head on my shoulder, and the darkening sky would tint her in an array of color. It was safe. It was everything I wanted.All he said was, “Something about the sunsets.”
Marsh waited for him to expound on his statement, but when he turned his attention to his drink, she jumped in with her own favorite color. “It’s green. Like my eyes. I’m sure that’s a little narcissistic, but it always reminds me of nature and how no matter how bad things get, everything still has the ability to grow back.”
