His eyebrows jabbed upward.
She cleared her throat. “And in order not to fall to the floor awkwardly, I was... I was compelled to take a sort of... a sort of great leap.”
“A leap,” he repeated, as if this was a fascinating, salient point.
“Whereupon I”—she swallowed—“landed. I skidded across the floor, and collided with the bedpost and then I...”
He gazed at her relentlessly.
“...fell to the floor,” she admitted.
A long moment ensued during which he studied her, his expression rather a fascinating blend of things, one of which was clearly hilarity.
“Exactly how I pictured it,” he said.
She gave a little shout of laughter, covered with her hand.
They regarded each other in somewhat fraught silence, while she held her shoulder with one hand, where it stung from the collision with the bedpost.
“Why were you standing on the desk?”
He asked as if anything she’d just said had been at all reasonable.
It was a long moment before she could reply. She could feel her face scorching now, but she knew she was going to tell him.
“I wanted to know if I could hear you breathing.” Her voice was hoarse.
Ironically, in that moment, he visibly stopped breathing. Almost as though he took the words like a blow.
His face blazed briefly with light she could feel in her chest.
His features were screened quickly with caution.
“Could you?” he said carefully.
There was a little silence.
“I can now,” she whispered.
He pressed his lips together. His face was unreadable now. But then his eyes flicked to her arm and his face registered concern.
“Catherine... your shoulder. You’re holding it. How badly is it hurt?”
“It’s just a bump. It will... it will fade in time.” Unlike whatever happened to her when he was near.
Too late, they both realized he’d reflexively reached out to lay his hand against her shoulder by way of comfort.
They both froze.
And as though he was Midas, just like that he transformed her blood: not to gold, but to lava. She could feel its slow, hot progress through her veins.
She tipped her head until it rested on his hand, and closed her eyes.
“It feels better now,” she said. Her voice was cracked. “Thank you.”
She could hear him breathing more swiftly.
“Tell me to leave, Catherine. So help me God. Tell me.” His voice was a scorched whisper.
