“You saw all of us.”
“No. I saw you.” He swallowed. The amber in his eyes was nearly gone now, consumed by gold. “The others were performing. Crying or smiling or trying to look appealing. You were just... standing there. Looking at the crowd like you were cataloging them. Counting. Planning.”
“So you bought me because I wasn’t crying?”
“I bought you because you looked at me.”
I remembered. That moment on the platform when I’d felt someone watching. When I’d found him in the crowd. When our eyes had met.
“Everyone was looking at you,” I said. “You’re seven feet tall.”
“Everyone was looking at the monster.” His voice had gone quiet. “You were the only one who looked at me.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. My throat had closed around something sharp.
“You keep doing that,” I managed.
“Doing what?”
“Saying things I don’t know how to answer.”
“I am sorry.”
“Don’t be. Just...” I shook my head. “Warn me next time. Before you say something that makes me want to...”
I stopped. I’d been about to say cry. But that wasn’t quite right either.
He stood up. Crossed the room in three steps. Stopped in front of me, close enough that I had to look straight up to find his eyes.
“Makes you want to what?” he asked.
“I don’t know.” The words came out barely a whisper. “Something. I don’t know what.”
He reached out. His hand stopped just before touching my face. I could feel the heat of him, hovering, waiting.
“You are worth more than your usefulness,” he said. “I need you to know that. Whatever else happens, whatever you decide about this place, about me, I need you to know: you do not have to earn your place here. You do not have to organize my library or teach me to read or be productive in any way. You are allowed to simply exist.”
“Nobody gets to just exist.”
“You do. Here. With me.” His hand was shaking. I could see it trembling in the air between us. “I had forgotten what wanting felt like. And then I saw you standing on that platform with ink on your chin.”
“Tavrin…”
“I am not telling you this to make you feel obligated. I am telling you because you keep talking about being useful, being valuable, being worth keeping, and I need you to understand.” His eyes were burning now, gold bleeding through the amber. “I would keep you if you did nothing. If you never organized a single book. If you never spoke to me again. I would keep you because you exist, and I cannot fathom a world where you do not exist in this place with me.”
I stared at him. My pulse hammered against my ribs, a frantic rhythm.
“That’s terrifying,” I said.
“I know.”
“You basically just said you’re obsessed with me and we’ve known each other for a day.”
“I know.” His hand was still hovering. Still trembling. “Do you want to run?”
I thought about it. Really thought about it. About my uncle’s house where I’d been a tool. About the creditor at the market who’d looked at my hips. About every person who’d ever seen me as something to use.
And then I thought about Tavrin. I thought about the books arranged by color. About his hands shaking because he was fighting so hard not to touch me.
