Page 77 of The Gods Forbid

“You’ve been hunched over for too long,” Sebastian said, barely giving her a moment to get out a rushed thank you before he turned to the girl laying on the bed. The room was eerily silent as he leaned over her, passing his hand down her body a few inches off her form.

It was wrong, so, so wrong of me, but I wasn’t actually all that focused on what he was doing. I knew he’d heal her. I trusted him.

Apparently, that gave me leave to stare at his back, and the strength of his arms, as he tapped into one of the rawest parts of his power—the ability to heal. The muscles in his back flexed, shifting under the fabric of his shirt. He was steady, on strong legs that anchored him.

As he worked, the girl’s injuries started to fade away, drawing relieved cries from her mother. Even Dr. Sophia looked like her eyes were getting a little misty.

I wished I was getting teary-eyed. That would be better than realizing that I definitely, unavoidably, had feelings that were not just pleasant companionship towards Sebastian. Let alone the realization that it wasn’t this show of empathy that did it.

They’d been there, brewing all along. This situation just made them aggressively apparent.

After about a minute, Sebastian straightened, giving everyone a full view of the young girl, now looking like she was just sleeping peacefully in a hospital bed. Her mother folded herself over the bed, her sobs loud and relieved. She briefly turned her head to give Sebastian a tearful thank you.

Sebastian turned around, eyes going wide when he looked at me. I didn’t know what I looked like, but my cheeks felt hot. I turned to Dr. Sophia, but all that did was turn his gaze into a hot brand on my cheek.

She ushered us out to the hall, leaving the mother and daughter alone. “Let’s give them some privacy,” she said. “You’re quite intimidating, Lord Apollo. In case you forgot.”

Sebastian straightened immediately, his grin showing up a moment too late.

Oh, oh.

All the sudden, a large piece of Sebastian clicked into place. An experience I’d had most of my life, and his seemed exaggerated by multiple degrees.

It was very lonely to feel like you intimidated others around you. To have that thought confirmed, poised as a compliment and said with awe.

“Goodness, you’re intimidating,” was arguably well-intentioned. Positive, even. But it put a lot of distance between people, made you feel like you couldn’t quite connect, when people all but said they were scared of you.

“Never could,” Sebastian said, his grin fully cemented. Well, I wasn’t a fan of the thin tone in his voice at all.

I was feeling so muddled, I barely registered half of what he and Dr. Sophia talked about as we made our way back outside of the main wing of the hospital and back to the offices. It was a quick trip, especially because I had to be back to Prometheus for someone’s arrival later this afternoon.

We made it through polite goodbyes and a promise from Sebastian to come back next week, leaving Dr. Sophia to run back into the hospital to answer someone’s call.

The second we were alone, Sebastian said, “I don’t want to hear anything about the monthly visits.”

I laughed, a smile breaking out over my face. Sebastian’s face went momentarily serious, something I was learning happened when I laughed in front of him. I wasn’t sure what that was about. “I am most certainly going to be saying something, but I’ll save you from it for the time being.”

Sebastian laughed, and I felt like the muscles in my face had gone molten and I had to fight to keep them in a smile. “Keeping me in suspense. How wicked of you.”

“I’ll just pop out from behind a corner before I do it so it won’t scare you as much,” I said, barely noticing the portal opening and closing around us, or the walls of my home materializing.

“Like I said, wicked.” Sebastian leaned down, placing the words into the minimal space between our mouths. I had a hard time when his lips got that close. Normally, I just made myself keep my focus on his eyes, which was just a marginally lesser evil, but when he did this thing where his chin dipped down and he took hold of my eyes, it was really, really hard to ignore.

I smiled through the agony twisting my stomach, dropping my eyes to my hands. My watch, too, which made me realize the time.

“Oh, I am so late.” I was supposed to be at our arrivals office twenty minutes ago.

“What do you have today?” Sebastian said, walking over to the fridge and pulling out a glass container filled with chilled coffee.

“An arrival,” I said, taking the coffee from his outstretched hand. “Thank you,” I added quickly, feeling proud of the little smile that drew to his lips.

“Good or bad one?” Sebastian knew my opinions on it, one of the many conversations we’d had while I’d been perched on the counter while he cooked something on the stove.

“Bad one,” I said, with a deep sigh. This was by far the hardest part of my job, dealing with people who had shown time and time again they had no shame for their violent actions.

Sebastian winced, something I would have told him meant he was empathizing with me if I didn’t think it would ruin his day. “It’ll be quick, I hope.”

I nodded, hoping for the same. “I’ll be back for dinner,” I said, then fought a wince of my own. That sounded far too hopeful.