Page 34 of In Your Light

He was so stunned, so amazed—so enamoured—that it made him smile.

“Is that...?”

Hadeom ducked his head, not taking his eyes off the flower.

“Is that a smile?”

“No,” Hadeom replied quickly. “Of course not.”

“I know what I saw.”

Hadeom ignored him, keeping his eyes on the small flower in his hand.

“Hadeom,” Fyn murmured.

When Hadeom drew his gaze up to Fyn’s, he immediately wished he hadn’t.

Fyn's smile was impossibly soft. “I like your smile.”

No one had ever said that to him.

Not in all the ages Hadeom could remember.

People had praised his strength. His wisdom. His patience. They’d feared his anger, his wrath. They’d admired his power.

No one had simply liked the idea of him being happy.

The realisation lodged somewhere beneath his ribs, painfully sharp and dangerously close to hope.

“Have I embarrassed you?” Fyn asked.

Yes.

“No.”

Fyn laughed. “I should get going if I’m going to make it to the village before it gets too late.”

As they walked back to the hut, Hadeom wondered if he should ask Fyn to stay a little longer. He wondered how he could ask without sounding too hopeful or so disappointed when Fyn said no.

At some point Fyn had begun humming, and at some point Hadeom had stopped measuring the distance back.

And at some point—he could not say exactly when—the forest had ceased to feel like a place he was hiding. And, maybe, it had become somewhere he was returning from.

There was a difference.

Small and fragile, but alive.

Beside him, Fyn reached over without looking and slipped his hand onto Hadeom's elbow for exactly three steps as he navigated a muddy patch. As if Hadeom might have slipped.

It was ludicrous.

And wonderful.

Then he let it go again to point excitedly at another cluster of mushrooms as if it was the most natural thing in the world to do.

Kindness offered as easily as breathing.

Hadeom stood for a beat longer before following, his heart thrumming, his elbow still warm from his touch.