Page 136 of Plug and Drain

Arken didn’t always meet her eyes when he spoke, but when he did, she recognised the pain lurking in their depths. He was like a hurt animal, trapped and vulnerable.

It made her heart ache, and she cursed herself for not seeing it sooner. It caused the emotions she’d kept locked away to burst forwards.

She wanted to be near Arken. To comfort him.

It defied all logic—only a few hours had passed since she’d seen him murder a student.

But she understood that he hadn’t wanted to do it.

Still, it was too difficult to reconcile that part of him with the man standing before her, so she didn’t try. There was no point trying to fit together jigsaw pieces that belonged to different puzzles.

One was the version of his self that played Henrikk’s game to survive. The other was someone she suspected few people got to see. The real person underneath the shroud of authority and mystery.

She wanted all the parts of him, even the imperfect pieces that were too warped and frayed to fit together anymore. Especially those. Maybe she could complete the parts that were missing. Fit into his world somehow.

Susie was hardly aware of crossing the room. At what point had she decided she wanted this? Suddenly, she was standing before Arken, touching his arm. He was hurting, and she felt the pain pouring out of him.

And as he spoke, she instinctively stepped closer, stroking his back as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

“What do you see?” Arken asked, a note of desperation entering his steady voice.

He looked like a man torn as he waited for her answer, and she sensed that he was ready to crumble at the slightest touch. And yet, she was touching his arm and trailing wondrous sensations down his back, and he was still intact…for now.

Say something to him.

Her heart ached as she saw more shards of his confident exterior fall.

Who did this to you? She wanted to ask.

But she already knew the answer. She’d always known he was Henrikk’s man. She’d just never realised how unwilling Arken was.

I never asked. I should have asked.

What did Henrikk do to you?

How did he hurt you? How often?

She wanted to know. If she knew the source of his pain, the entry point of his wounds, maybe she could help restore him. Or at least stop the poison soaking deeper into him. That was how he carried his past traumas: like barbs that he’d never removed from his skin.

Her eyes pricked with tears as she thought of the children he’d saved. There was so much good in him, and she’d always sensed that.

I thought I was naive to think that of him. But I gave up too soon. When he ignored me in first year, I assumed he was cold-hearted.

Arken had buried his emotions deep.

But not deep enough that no one could find them. Maybe, he wanted to be found.

That was how he looked at her now. His breathing shallow, his body rigid as he watched her from the corner of his eyes.

Arken wanted someone to see who he really was. She was starting to. And this time, she would not stop until she’d unearthed every part of him that had once shone brightly. There had to be more than just this glimmer.

She touched his face, and he closed his eyes and leant into her touch, his neat beard rough against her palm.

“I see you, Arken,” she whispered.

A long moment passed as he stared at her.

“Do you, now?” His answer was pleasant, but she detected the scepticism as he looked away.