Eunny didn’t comment. He watched her from the corner of his eye, trying not to be too obvious. She frowned down at her mix, brow furrowing in concentration. She held the rod in a death pinch, fingertips going white from the pressure.
“Little softer. Treat it like a pen,” Ollas said. “It won’t jump away from you.”
She complied, somewhat, letting blood flow back into her fingers, though her motion was still rigid. Her other hand, the one monitoring the mix, was another story. She traced through the material with her index finger, the rest curled loosely against her palm. On occasion, she would let one dangle, like dipping her toes into water, as she followed the tray’s rim. She moved from the wrist, graceful, minute turns for changes of angle.
“Am I doing it wrong?” Eunny asked, raising her brows at him. “You’re staring, Professor.”
Heat surged through his groin. Which he really, really didn’t need right now, not when there was a good chance that her very presence would pique his cock’s interest even more. He didn’t have the handy escape of going to check on other students. And if Eunny noticed… Gods. He’d have to leave the country. If he didn’t drop dead from embarrassment first.
“I’m admiring.” He gestured toward the tray. “Your technique.”
Eunny snorted, giving the mix a vigorous stir.
Ollas spun around and pretended to rummage through the pots on the opposite counter. “How does the mix feel now?”
“Cold. Kind of dry, but not really, because I can see how it took up the water.”
Ollas nodded as she talked, nudging his troublesome cock up and trapping it behind the confines of his belt. Taking advantage of the trailing vines hanging from the ceiling, his movements were decently hidden.
“I guess it’s fluffy.” Eunny held up her now-clear stirring rod. “Does this mean it worked?”
Ollas resumed his place next to her and tested the mix, nodding with approval. “It’s prepared correctly. We should have an idea of whether or not it’s doing anything in a day or so.”
He made a shallow impression for the new plant, gently pressing the roots down into the mix before putting a thin layer of it over the top.
“Great. Waiting. My favorite.” Eunny carried the tray into the rear antechamber and placed it next to its sibling plants on the lower shelf. When she straightened, she nudged Ollas’s arm. “We should probably talk about how you don’t need my help anymore.”
The quiet statement was enough to make his cock droop. It softened, falling free from his waistband, limp and sad as he felt.
“Thanks for this. Letting me help. I know I kind of bullied you into it.” A sheepish grin lit her face. “But it’s been fun, being back here. Doing the school thing again. I’d forgotten what it feels like.”
“To be a student?”
Eunny wasn’t looking at him, her gaze drifting around the greenhouse. Taking it all in as if for the last time. “To be a part of all this,” she murmured. “I’ll miss it.”
“But you already are. What about the work you’ve done for the school?” Ollas protested.
Her gaze was fixed on the window, but her focus was somewhere else. Inside. Lingering over that which he couldn’t see. “Maybe I was once, but I’m not a part of this place anymore. I left and never looked back.” She tilted her head toward him, a sad smile on her face. “Until you. I don’t know what to think about that. It feels like it should be wrong, but…”
He didn’t understand. Was on the cusp of saying as much, but Eunny already seemed to know.
She sighed. “It’s never felt… right, coming back. To the town, to the school, the Valley. Take your pick. Not because I’m uncomfortable with magic. I’m mad. Because it fucking failed me. It failed when I needed it most, and I don’t know why. It failed in the worst way possible. I’m supposed to heal people, and instead my magic ruined you.”
“You didn’t,” Ollas murmured. He ached to say more, to take her guilt and anger and tear it into shreds, but she stopped him with a weary shake of her head.
She picked a dead leaf from the length of vine nearest to her and began tearing it into pieces. “I’ve been able to call light since before I could walk. Could imbue Auntie Yerina’s cold remedy blends before I could see over the counter. I don’t know what magic is like for you, but I’ve known mine forever. It was like breathing. So for it to go so badly, for it to have been so natural and then become unknown… I don’t know how to come back from that. I’m trained, Nev, I did all my schooling. I learned what the consequences are supposed to be of pushing beyond your limits, same as everyone else. Magic fails sometimes, but then it should’ve failed me. Should’ve hurt me, not you. But it didn’t.”
His hand twitched toward her, hesitating in midair. He wanted to touch her, hold her, absorb any of her sorrow that he could if it meant that she would carry less of it.
When she didn’t move away, he placed his hand over hers.
She gave him a grim smile. “I don’t remember much of that day. That part is true, but it’s by choice. When I think about it, when I remember… I can’t just remember it. I have to live it, and that sucks.”
He squeezed her hand.
“It was the only time my magic’s ever gotten away from me.” Eunny laughed once, the sound devoid of any mirth. “Everyone harps on me to get my magic back, because how could you want to go from magic to mundane if given the choice? Gods, it was so easy.” Her fingers wrapped tightly around his. “The life I used to have? Apothecary work. I don’t want—” Her head jerked sharply. “It’s not for me anymore.”
For a while, neither spoke. Ollas looked down at their entwined hands. At hers, still so beautiful in his eyes. But her hands were not without pain. Not so innocent, despite appearances. He wouldn’t claim to understand all the horror she’d felt, but Ollas couldn’t call himself a stranger to such feelings, either. If only.
