His head bowed, his eyes squeezing closed. "The more time I spend with you, the more the people at Belnor seem like monsters," he rumbled. He turned to me, and I remembered, too keenly, that I still had nothing on. He frowned. "I don't want to meet the people that made you think this is strange, the barest duty I have to care. I shouldn't impress you, Rowena.Nothing about meis impressive.”
My mind froze, tilting around his intense face, the heat around us, his shoulders-
His shoulders.
“What’s this?” I reached out, and he flinched back, before he stopped.
“It’s nothing.”
“You’re hurt.” The scrape cut into his shoulder near where the muscles met, and then over. I pushed out of the water.
“Rowena, I’m fine?—"
“It’s on both sides.” I pulled back. “The small of your back is torn open!”
“It’s not serious.”
“What are you doing? How did this happen?”
“This is normal.”
“It’s not normal! My back is not bleeding; everyone else’s backs are not bleeding?—"
He turned and caught my hands. “It’s just what happens when there’s too much weight on a pack frame. It’snothing.”
I stared back. He swallowed. This was ridiculous, naked next to an orc, arguing about how we let ourselves be hurt. He let go my hands, like he’d been burned, looked away. His neck was flushed. I babbled, “The others don’t bleed, because the others don’t carry too much?”
“Maybe they can handle it better.” He shrugged. “What, was I supposed to make Tyralk carry his effects? On a crutch?”
“But people could take turns. You’re not the only one who could help.”
“But I do have the most to prove. Don’t I?” His jaw clenched. “I’m not going to be the one who can’t carry the load. They already make up for me too much. If I can help them, I don’t care.”
“Hypocrite,” I whispered.
He shook his head. “Your feet were much worse.”
“Then shall I carry Tyralk’s pack tomorrow?”
“No, you’re much too small, it would—" he kept trying to explain, and I watched his lips move. He was still looking away from me. Should I get back in the water and spare him theeffort to not look at my body? The power dynamic seemed so different than it had an hour ago.
And I knew Khal was going to be better off without me. And that whatever he thought, he didn’t need to be the fastest or the strongest to make someone happy. But I wanted…God, I was selfish, I wished…
“Khal?” I said, my heart rate spiking. “Can I kiss you?”
He froze, still facing the water. “What?”
“Can I kiss you?” This was the dumbest thing I had ever done or said. And I still wanted it.
“...you won’t hurt yourself?—"
“With a kiss?” I could hear the laugh in my voice, aching. “What are you going to do if I kiss you?”
His voice was husky. “Nothing.”
I slipped back into the water. He was so still, sitting on the ledge, the little waves from my movement just covering him to the waist. “Will you come in?” I said.
He hesitated, and leveraged himself down. He winced as the salt water touched the cuts, then opened his eyes, sitting on the step, the water lapping around his chest. “I don’t know how to do this,” he said.
