“I think I may have scraped my knee when I slipped, but I’m surprised you can smell that. It barely even scratched the skin.”
“That’s it? You are sure you are fine?”
“I’m more than fine. I simply slipped in a muddy spot and slid for a moment before catching myself. That’s when you found me.” She had pushed herself up to a sitting position. “The real thing we should be worried about is you. Are you alright? Why did you think I was covered in blood?”
Aden looked down again, hiding his face. “The curse,” he said. “It increased my ability to hear and smell, but distorted my sight.”
“In what ways?”
“Some colors are blurred,” he muttered.
“Like the color of blood and the color of mud?” she asked.
He nodded. He felt her hand on his chin, raising his face to meet hers.
He cringed, embarrassed that she was touching his wolflike snout.
Her face was a blur in front of his eyes, but he could feel her gaze on him, and he attempted to make eye contact. Even though he was on his knees in front of the couch, his face was level with hers.
“It also makes some things hazy and blurred.” He reached toward her face, not fully touching it. “Specifically, things that are closer to me. Things in the far distance are clear, but most objects within a room are too hazy for me to see in detail.”
She waved her hand.
His eyes instinctively followed it back and forth, then returned to her face as he realized what she was doing. “I can see movement and basic shapes. But I can’t make out details such as words or faces.” His mouth was dry. He felt vulnerable and exposed explaining his weakness.
Her hand moved again, and his eyes instantly followed it. She reached up and touched her own face. “Then why do you always seem to be staring at my face?” she asked, sounding skeptical.
“I’ve been trying to make it out,” he said, “because I can’t see it clearly.”
“You can’t see it clearly?” She relaxed into the back of the sofa behind her. “You can’t see my face.” She sounded delighted.
“At the moment,” he replied, “I dearly wish that I could see it, for I get the feeling that it is smiling quite broadly right now, only I can’t tell if it is because of some sort of personal joy or if you are laughing at me and my plight.”
“I’m not laughing at you,” she reassured him. “What do you think I look like?”
“I don’t know...” Aden said. “I haven’t really thought of it.”
Of course, he had thought of it. He had thought of it far more than he cared to admit over the last few days.
“Thoughtful,” he said quietly, “wise, caring, a touch of fire in your eyes. Soft.”
He reached forward and gently touched her cheek with the back of his hand. The sensation on his fur was like a light ripple, barely awakening his sense of touch. The soft pads on the front of his hands were far more sensitive. But as much as he longed to feel her face, he wouldn’t dare desecrate her skin by touching it with his curse.
As his hand pulled away, she grasped it in both of her own, gently holding it on her lap between them and lightly stroking his fur.
“Fire in my eyes?” she repeated, making him feel ridiculous.
Why had he said that? He should have said beautiful, exquisite, or bewitching. Something at least remotely flattering.
“I like it,” she said, inhaling a deep, satisfied breath. “That’s the most wonderful thing anyone has ever said to me.”
Aden was afraid to breathe. Afraid to move and shatter the moment.
Her hand stopped moving, and he could sense her eyes looking at him once again. “But you said that you cannot see enough detail to make out words. Does that mean you cannot read any more?”
“I cannot,” he replied, feeling as though his last secret had been revealed.
“I cannot imagine being unable to read. That must be miserable. Why did you not tell me?”
