“Would you like to share it with me?” I lowered my arse to the ground, feeling the coldness seep through my trousers, and willed her to seek the warmth of my coat.
Her nostrils flared with a deep inhale before she spoke in a voice so soft it reminded me of a mother reading a bedtime story to an infant on the cusp of sleep. “To smell the ocean breeze. To taste the sweetness of vanilla ice cream. To hear the whisper of peace. To see the color of love. To feel the finesse of rain on my skin. To—” she clamped down on a soft gasp.
Her simple yet sincere desires made me wonder who’d denied her these basic pleasures others took for granted. The breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding seeped out on a slow exhale, fortifying the inexplicable tightness in my chest. I’d felt pain before, experienced and caged it, but something told me mine was nothing compared to what she’d gone through.
“Silly, huh?” When her eyes, glazed with unshed tears, found mine again, there was no smile—not even in her words, just embarrassed diffidence or perhaps the fear that she shouldn’t be voicing such desires.
“No.” I shook my head, swallowing down the emotion clogging my throat. “Not for someone who hasn’t had them before.” I waited for her to respond, hoping she’d tell me more. There was something deeper that she wanted. I’d heard it in that tiny gasp, realizing she’d said too much. “If I promised to give you all those things, would you come with me?”
Her eyes widened, her shock tangible in how she worried her bottom lip between her teeth. It would likely bleed if she didn’t stop. “Why? I don’t know you. You could be an old man wanting to take advantage of a weak girl.” Her voice elevated a little on the last part, possibly talking from experience. I clenched my fingers, willing death upon the man who’d hurt her.
Forcing back my anger, I smiled. “Not trusting easily is a sign of strength, not weakness. It takes a brave girl to sit on this ledge, debating whether to end a precious life or save it for peace and love. If not for those things, trust me to give you the rain, the ocean, and vanilla ice cream. With those, the others will naturally follow.”
“Brave girl, precious life?” She shook her head, sarcasm lining her tone. “You talk to me like you know me, but those things are not me, not mine.”
Despite the pain in her expression and the rigid way she held her body, I heard the underlying determination in her tone. By that alone, I knew she’d willed herself to live, to bear her suffering with a hidden strength some might quickly lose sight of in her situation.
“You’re right. I know nothing about you or your circumstance.” My words seemed to lessen the tightness on her face. She was a pretty girl without smiling, even the smallest one would heighten her natural beauty. “And I am sorry for implying I did.”
I read the surprise in her eyes. She’d never had someone apologize to her before. Her thick lashes swept downward for a moment, hiding her inner emotions.
“What if I make you a promise?” I leaned forward slightly, attempting to filter her private space without coming across as bullish. When she looked up again, her blank stare was all I got. “If I promise to stay with you until you change your mind, will you come with me?”
Whether she contemplated my offer or not, I couldn’t tell because she looked away again. We sat silently for a little while, and even though I felt the biting cold inch its way around us, I was more concerned for her. That simple dress she wore wouldn’t hold up against a slight chill. Then she turned her head to look at me, and that unblinking gaze told me she’d suffered worse. This wintry air was something she’d mastered. My chest tightened again, forcing me to clench my fingers to keep from pulling her into the warmth of my embrace and promise her the world.
“Why do you want to help me?” her soft words pulled me out of my reflections, catching me off guard.
Why indeed? “Help is just a four-letter word, yet its impact is undeniably larger than common courtesy, remorse, or ego. Especially when I’m able and capable of doing so.” Her eyes widened slightly, so I tried another angle. “Would you not offer me the same if you could?” I smiled, willing her to do the same. She didn’t give me that, but her eyes roamed over my face, searching for what I didn’t know. Silently, I begged her to trust me. She popped a thumb into her mouth, reminding me of a scared child, and stared into the darkness.
Once more, an inexplicable rush of hatred filled me. Someone had wronged her to the extent her childish actions were her safety net. She was afraid, and it was palpable in the occasional flick of her eyes between me and the horizon.
“What’s your name, love?” I gentled my voice to an almost inaudible tone. Shifting her gaze back to me, she removed the digit from her mouth and examined it. “My name is Xavier,” I offered when silence filled the space between us.
All I got was a wide-eyed look. I cursed its sadness. Lifting the coat, I fished out the bar of chocolate I’d pocketed earlier, set the coat back down, and proceeded to unwrap the treat. Her gaze followed my movements, a slight frown creasing her brow. Her interest lifted one corner of my mouth in a small smile. Either she hadn’t seen chocolate before, or she was just curious.
I held out the half-open bar. “You must be hungry. Would you like to try it?”
Her eyes flicked between the sweet and my face. Even in the dim light, I could see the hesitation.
“Go on, love. I won’t hurt you.” I leaned closer.
She lifted a hand, seemed to rethink the move, dropped it to her lap again then fiddled with the pink ribbon tied around her right wrist.
With a soft sigh, I tried a different angle. “What if we made a trade?” Her eyes flew to my face, her expression puzzled. “I’ll give you this chocolate for your pink ribbon?” She shook her head vehemently, her look of horror telling me it was a prized possession. “I’m not going to take it,” I quickly soothed. “What about that band? Want to part with that?” I pointed to the rubber securing the bottom of one of her braids.
Surprisingly, she nodded, removed the elastic, and set it down on the coat instead of handing it over. Not questioning the move, I placed the chocolate on my jacket and picked up the rubber band. She reached forward, took the sweet, gave it a once over, then bit into the treat. Her bite was small and tentative before her startled gaze met mine as she licked her lips.
“Do you like it?” I asked, both fascinated and saddened that she’d never tasted chocolate.
She nodded, chewing slowly. I watched her eat, her bites tiny, her features unchecked bliss. Either she was savoring the taste or committing it to memory. When she reached the portion still covered, she looked at it for a moment before darting that confused gaze to me.
“Push the wrapper down.” I showed her how by sliding my thumb and forefinger on one hand down the forefinger of the other. She followed my instruction and glanced at me when she uncovered the rest, then bit into the bar.
The thrill of teaching her something this simple made me smile. Done, she folded the wrapper into a neat little square and tucked it into a pocket hidden in the folds of her tunic.
She wouldn’t take anything without an exchange. Perhaps this was a rule she’d been taught. Hoping I was right, I tapped my coat. “Would you trade me your other band for my coat?”
Frowning, she eyed the coat, my face, then the rubber on her other braid. As if mother nature decided to help, a heavy gust of wind circled the air around us. This time, the girl couldn’t hide her shiver. She placed the other rubber band on the ground between us a moment later, picked up the coat, and slid her arms through the sleeves. The thick wool was like an oversized blanket around her petite frame, but she hugged the lapels to her chest, snuggled into the warmth, and looked out into the horizon again.
