There are no windows, but there’s plenty of natural light. My head leans back against the door, and a watery sigh escapes me as I gaze out the tinted ceiling of glass. It takes me back to our room in the carriage he was so eager to show us.
He likes to look at the stars before he sleeps.
My knees shake as I approach his bed and press my nose to his pillow. The deep breath fills my lungs not only with his scent, but I swear, his Harmony surrounds me.
Not truly, but that’s the calm that settles across me.
I force myself to stand, although my desire is to crawl between his sheets.
A small laugh slips from my lips when I study his bookshelf that doesn’t actually hold a single book.
The sound instantly silences.
On the middle shelf is my statue head, and surrounding it are little trinkets I can but can’t really explain.
His shattered torch lamp sits in a pile with a wilting angel orchid sitting among its broken pieces. The only way I can imagine this is the same one is he had to have starshot it from the cave.
One small cluster of Angel Aura Amethysit, a vial of something purple, a cookie with a bite taken out of it, a mug that scarily resembles the one I threw at him and chipped, and I swear to fuck that’s one of my hair ties sitting there.
The entire shelf is dedicated, well…to me.
An altar.
My throat constricts.
It should be weird, maybe freak me out, but it sure as hell doesn’t.
This is my little psycho.
This is how he expresses himself. Expresses how he feels about me even if his ass won’t admit it plain as day.
There’s nothing plain about any of them, so I don’t know why I’d expect that.
I back away from the shelf until my foot catches on something sticking out from under his bed and I fall against his mattress with a small oomph.
I spend a blissful moment staring up at the clouds.
How can they be so peaceful while our lives are anything but that?
Get up, see what tripped you, and then you need to leave his room.
My cheeks puff out as I exhale sharply and make myself slide off his bed. I land right on top of the item, and glass clanks around underneath me.
I cock my head to the side as I stare at his half-hidden bag. This backpack’s like the one he wore to the cave, but I see that one sitting in the corner by a door that either leads to his closet or bathroom.
My eyes widen comically when I unzip it and find vials of who knows what, another two packs that would go around your waist with more random vialed shit, a couple of daggers, and a bag of snacks.
What the fuck, Riven?
Thank the Valories I didn’t crush whatever this is.
A snort escapes me, and I cover my mouth with the back of my hand. I can’t hold it in, though. A burst of laughter belts from my throat as I put the waist packs on, then the backpack.
I don’t have the first clue what this shit could be. It’s probably deadly, but it’s coming with us, and I’ll try to be careful with it.
He may need this to blow shit up when we find him.
Creed
