Her lips purse in sympathy. “Everyone’s in the conference room waiting.”
“Yeah, okay,” I mutter as I scrub at my eyes. “Give me a minute.”
“Sure thing, boss,” she says before hesitating. “Is there anything I can do?”
“I’m not even sure there’s anythingIcan do,” I admit.
She shuffles between her feet. Ego is not one for discussions of feelings, so I wave her on without meeting her eyes.
“Go on. I’ll be there shortly.”
She sighs and walks away. I take a few minutes to compose myself before stepping into the hall, wondering where Xeni ran and fighting every urge to chase him.
Xeni
Voicescarrythroughthehallway as I pace. The cheerful murmur of conversation is interrupted by occasional bursts of laughter. They’re easy, effortless sounds for those who grew up surrounded by friends or a loving family.
For someone who never quite learned the rhythm of belonging, they’re hard to hear.
Bash’s calm timbre isn’t among them, and I don’t know if our mutual isolation makes me feel better or worse.
I haven’t seen him since I fled his room this morning. The memory of his touch still seared hot on my skin as I left. It burned in places I’d forgotten could feel alive, and the ghost of it lingers, despite the hours that have passed.
Maybe I shouldn’t have run.
Maybe I should’ve been brave and stayed to face whatever came next, but staying would’ve given him the chance to voice all those things that were brewing on his tongue.
The gentle dismissals.
The careful excuses.
The insistence that what happened was a mistake, andyes, he was using me, andno, I shouldn’t read into it too much.
That we were just two bodies coming together because it’s all we’ve ever known how to do.
My arms bind tighter around my chest, hugging as if I could hold myself intact. Waking up surrounded by his scent had felt so natural, soright, after years of everything feeling wrong, but I know what this morning was.
Pity.
He’s always had compassion in spades, and he offered it to me in a moment of vulnerability. He let himself forget long enough to give me a taste of something authentic.
Comfort, perhaps, or nothing more than a dose of synthetic love.
Whatever it was, it shocked my system and let me believe it was the real thing. It gave me a high, and the comedown left me scattered.
My stomach growls again, but the churning in my gut won’t allow food. I’m starving… empty in a way no meal could fill. Pushing another sigh through my nose, I follow my senses.
I walk that invisible path between his heart and mine.
People stare as I pass, and a few cower, but they’ve stopped trying to contain me to that room when I don’t want to be contained.
I turn a corner to find a plain metal door, and when I open it, fresh air blows down the stairwell. Clouds litter the sky, veiling the sunset and bringing the scent of distant rain as I climb towards them.
The rooftop is more cheerful than it has any right to be. Leafy potted plants thrive along one edge, and metal chairs with colorful, sun-weathered cushions scatter sporadically around the area. Off in the far corner, a cluster of them faces away, and a familiar frame sits alone.
Gravel crunches under my feet, but Bash doesn’t flinch as I approach.
“Hey,” he says softly.
