“I always am.”
While the wind catches her dark hair, she glances at me, and something unreadable passes through her expression. “Even when it makes things worse?”
“Especially then.”
She looks away again, more like she doesn’t know what to do with this strangely peaceful moment between us. It’s a stark difference compared to the last few days.
“I could run,” she says, unable to help herself.
“I know.”
“I still might,” Naia mumbles, but she doesn’t sound so sure. Then she sighs. “But you’d probably catch me.”
“Yeah, I would,” I respond without hesitation.
She may be quick and agile, but she isn’t trained like I am. She doesn’t know exactly how determined I am to keep her out of harm’s way, either.
She exhales sharply through her nose, allowing something like frustration to slip through. “You’re so arrogant.”
“I’m realistic.”
That earns me a brief glare, and I take it.
We walk a little farther before she speaks again, and to my surprise, she sounds more sincere now.
“You didn’t have to take me out here.”
I shrug. “Seemed like a better alternative to you destroying my apartment.”
“I wasn’t going to destroy it,“ she murmurs, as if it were ridiculous.
“You were thinking about it,” I say, lifting a brow in her direction.
A corner of her lips barely pulls, but she keeps it restrained enough not to seem like she’s enjoying this. “Maybe a little.”
I almost smile, and as we continue, taking in the easy pace of the more secluded world around us, it feels more like old times. Back before I left, and before she decided it was easier to hate me than to hear my side of things.
“Why does it bother you so much?” I ask after a while.
She stiffens slightly, not meeting my gaze. “You keeping me locked up?”
“That’s part of it,” I admit. “But it’s more than that.”
She doesn’t respond right away. Her eyes stay fixed ahead, her expression tightening again like she’s pulling something back into place.
“Take a guess,” she says finally.
“Because I bought you,” I say flatly.
Her mouth presses into a thin line. “That might have something to do with it.”
“And the rest?”
She hesitates a bit longer this time, like she doesn’t want to let the words out just for me. It goes on long enough that I think she’s not going to answer.
“You left,” she says, words quieter and softer, yet hitting much harder than anything she’s said so far.
I stop walking before it sets in that I’m not moving anymore, but she doesn’t. Naia takes a few more steps before she realizes I’m not beside her anymore, and she turns slowly.
