I turned the key twice, and the cylinders retreated as the lock gave way. “It still is.”
He stared at me. At the key I stuffed back into my pocket. At the door. And then back at me. “You kept it locked on purpose. There was never any danger, was there?”
Smirking, I pushed the door open, my callouses scraping the flakes of rust. Fresh air ruffled our clothing, the wind testing to see if we were fit to emerge from the depths of the dwelling.
“So are you planning to push me over the edge, or…” Zion scrunched up his upturned nose, his reaction identical to whenever he would accidentally consume anything sour, like unripe kiwi—the fruit he relentlessly insisted to be evil.
As we walked across the flat expanse of concrete, I explained, “This is where I used to come to be alone.” Where no one would bother me. Where my past ceased to exist. Where I could…exist.
The ruins of neglected buildings and still-standing survivors unfurled before us like a rolling wave of grayness. The mountains loomed far ahead, their peaks hidden by a mist descending from a cluster of thick clouds.
Last night’s rainstorm had traveled to face the three-thousand-foot-high challenge instead of lingering above us like some god with a bone to pick.
“People used to find me everywhere: the training rings, the shooting range, the streets, my study, even my bedroom if something had occurred during the night.” I stopped at the edge of the roof. The street below simmered in the darkness, the splits in the asphalt invisible. “Whenever it all became too much, I would come here before dawn. This was where I could leave everything behind. I would watch the sunrise and just…be.” Adjusting my grip on the blanket-bag’s handles, I confessed, “Except I don’t want to do it alone anymore.”
For some reason, this roof, the location I had restricted access to, had ceased holding significance for me. Or perhaps the solitude, the scenery, or both combined, had simply lost their charm. The allure had transferred itself to the man standing beside me and the sleeping woman a floor below us.
“So I’m special, then.” Zion grinned, his high cheekbones rising even higher, up to the feathery clouds floating in the sky.Orange and red hues had begun to shade the horizon. “You revealed your greatest weakness to me—the need for peace. Only now it’s going to be impossible with my cute little ass to distract you.” On beat, he wiggled his hips.
His dramatics broke the dam, and laughter bubbled out of me.
It had taken me too long to admit to myself I couldn’t imagine my life without him.
At first, I had thought Kali would be enough—or more like, I had talked myself into believing such a lie. Because not one, but two people had been sculpted out of the fabric of the universe for me.
So if Ilasall managed to find its balls and target either of them, I was going to raze the city. I would start by scooping out the eyes of their soldiers, frying them in a pan until they crisped to a golden hue and serving them to the government—the half a dozen idiots controlling the society and their ruler snapping his reins. And to ensure they got my point, I was going to hover at their backs until they licked their plates clean.
Once their stomachs had been filled, then I would deliver them to Zion as a gift—a few playthings whose anatomy and pain points he could explore to his heart’s desires.
I could ask him to let me extract a few bones as well, seeing as they would serve as building material for a crown, its tips dipped in scarlet. The exquisite ornament would be perfect to adorn Kali’s beautiful head.
Closing my eyes, I savored both the blossoming fantasy and the spring caressing my neck?—
No. Strong fingers were gliding up my nape, not the phantom ones of the sun.
“Thank you for bringing me here,” Zion murmured.
I relished how his smile surfaced at my speechlessness. We had spent enough time together for me to know he neededphysical touch like oxygen. It served as tangible proof that the person beside you still walked the plane of our world, and not the next.
Untangling the corners of the purple blanket, I spread it out on the damp concrete. Zion instantly sprawled on his back, stretching his arms above his head. His leather jacket parted, and his t-shirt rose, their joint efforts providing me with a glimpse of sandy skin above his sweatpants.
I swallowed.
“Well, come on then.” Zion patted the woolen fabric. “Or are you going to just stand there and admire me?”
Yes to both. If a person could be in two places at once, I would have already discovered it and honed the skill to its full capacity.
Dropping next to him, resting my elbows on my bent knees, Ibreathed. The tension boiling inside me slowly dissipated, and on my tenth inhale, the sun’s globe pierced the horizon, rising above the forests and setting the foliage on fire. The leaves and pine needles rustled as if shaking off the bleariness from their winter hibernation.
“I get it, why you kept this a secret.” Keeping his legs extended, Zion rose onto his arms. “It’s…quiet.” A breeze whirled his golden-brown hair, like a whirlpool seeking to suck him in, to harbor him from any external aggressors.
The currents of air had caught a peek into my desires. War was imminent, and my instinct to safeguard, shield, and defend bordered on exploding.
We sat like that for what seemed to be an eternity, the two of us part of the few souls awake in the compound. Slumber still feasted on our residents’ dreams, nightmares, and everything in between. The lack of noise made you wonder if the streets had transformed into sinkholes and swallowed everyone overnight.
Zion leaned on his elbows. “Why didn’t you wake Kali up? She would’ve enjoyed this too.”
“I forced her to accept us the last time. Now, I want her to choose.” Because once she did, she would not be allowed to go back on her word. “I left her a note. Whether she comes here or not is up to her.”
