I scoff. "Said the blemish free goddess who rescued me."
Her hand stops exploring my chest. She serpentines in front of me, so her back is to the mirror. She guides my hands to the top of her cropped shirt. "Take my blouse off."
"What?" My eyes widen.
"I said, take my blouse off."
I glance around the room. The windows are void of glass and there are no curtains in sight. The three in this room have a clear view of the desert city, meaning anyone could look into the room and spot us. But when I look down at her, she's hard-set so I do what she instructs. I lift her shirt above her head and clutch it in my hand. She places her palms against her breasts, but in the mirror I notice three deep slash scars across her back. Anger ignites in my gut.
"Who did that to you?"
She tilts her chin upward, our faces inches from one another. "A giant Desert Coyote. I was brash in my younger years and when I was denied a patrol with my father, I disobeyed and snuck out. I thought I was trained well enough to hold my own, but when the creatures attacked, I discovered how wrong I was. Sometimes I can still feel its claws shred my skin. When I close my eyes, I see it's fangs and it keeps me up at night. It took me years to accept my scars and almost the same amount of time to overcome my fear and go on patrols with Helios."
"I'm sorry that happened to you." I offer, unsure why I'm feeling such a strong pull to a stranger.
Hagar reaches up, moving my hair from my face. With care, she touches my scarred cheek, turning me so she can see the length of the cut. Her gaze suddenly flicks to meet mine. I hold my breath, bracing myself for the disgust or pity to well in her eyes, but such a look doesn't come.
"When you look at me," she says, "see my scars, do you find me repulsive? Lesser? Weak?"
Her questions throw me. "No."
"When I look at you, I see – "
"A monster? Someone to pity? A man in need of rescuing?" I challenge, but she's unfazed by my sarcasm.
"I see strength, resilience, and courage." She closes the smallest gap between us, so her forearm stretched across herbreasts presses against my chest. "I see a man who refused to break," she rasps. "I see a man who should be honored for his bravery. I know you will brush me off the moment I walk out of this room, but I wish you could see yourself in the same light I do."
"You don't know me." I search her eyes for answers, but I can't read her. "Why are you being nice?"
Hagar retrieves her blouse from my grasp and slips it over her head. She takes a step away from me as if my question severed whatever was transpiring between us. "Quit feeling sorry for yourself. Your friend needs you. Not the shell of what you are right now." Her words are harsh and are a slap to my face.
Frustration lodges in my chest. "I need time to forget what happened."
"You will never forget."
I roll my eyes at her bluntness. "Comforting." I backpedal and snatch my shirt off the floor.
"Would you rather be comforted with sweet and meaningless lies? Or would you rather be held accountable and be aided before you spiral?" She counters and I grind my teeth.
I slip my arms in the shirt. "Your bedside manner needs some work."
She marches toward me. I can't deny her commanding presence. "I won't coddle you, Nyx. There will be war whether you're ready or not and your friends will need you before the end comes."
"Do you doubt I'd answer their call?" I growl.
"No." She stands toe-to-toe with me, unwavering in my anger. "I doubt you will be able to."
My chest heaves. Rage bubbles in my gut. I grit my teeth and grind out, "I think you should go." I twist away from her, but she grabs my arm and whips me back around.
"I will stay." Hagar points to a chair. "Sit, so I can tend to your bandages which you've already ripped off."
"I wanted to see what…" I swallow hard. I don't owe her further explanation. She might have successfully burrowed under my skin, but I need her to tend to my wounds, so my scars won't be worse than what they already are. We stare at each other for what seems like small eternity. The battle of stubbornness and she wins. I drag the chair closer to me and plop down.
Hagar opens the glass jars and dips her hand into one of the balms. She spreads the ointment between her palms, warming it up before applying it to my back. For several minutes she tends to my injuries in silence. But I should have known this firecracker of a woman wouldn't remain quiet for long.
"Aurelia told me of your magic."
"So much for regenerating," I chuckle darkly.
