Page 14 of Powerful

‘And I expect to be greeted with a smile and a sticky bun.’ She nods curtly, as though finalizing this demand.

I cross my arms. ‘I thought we were done with the demands, hun?’

‘Get me my sticky bun, and we will be.’

With that, she’s sealed from view when the wooden door swings shut behind her with a squeal.

It’s only then that I take my first deep breath since meeting her.

She is an intoxicating sort of exhausting, like running until you’ve lost your breath but enjoying the feeling all the while. And I feel as though I’ve been sprinting for days.

Even worse, I fear that I am, in fact, beginning to enjoy her.

What a terrifying realization, to admit one’s admiration for another.

I run my hands through the strands of hair falling around my face, sighing as I make my way over to the disheveled bed I so desperately want to fall face-first into. Instead, I sit on the edge of it, lost in thoughts I’d rather not entertain. Thoughts of a girl I’ve only just met, of all things. How very pathetically poetic.

Shaking myself from a stupor of inevitable self-destruction, I stand to begin my nightly routine. This consists of first peeling the coal-stained clothes from my body. Once that task is complete, I slip off the partially leathered pants still hugging my legs. And after rummaging through one of the many crooked cabinets in my boxers alone, I manage to find a thin pair of pants to pull on.

This all happens in a timely manner, as routines typically do. Because next, I’m wetting a cloth to wipe the soot from my skin. In all honesty – a relatively foreign concept – I tend to keel over on my work table at this hour, dead asleep. But tonight, the interruption in my routine has ensured that my mind is plenty awake to actually finish it for once.

Soot clings to the damp cloth I drag across my skin,each swipe revealing the scars beneath.

That is when the pounding at my door begins.

And, Plagues, it doesn’t stop until I swing it open.

It’s her I see standing before me. Though, perhaps a version I never thought I’d witness. Her face is splotchy, striped with tears that leak from the hazel eyes above. Every inch of her is shaking, quaking beneath the fear smothering her frail form.

Panic clogs her throat, leaving only actions to speak on her behalf. She falls into me, wrapping thin arms round my bare waist before pressing a tear-stained face into my skin.

I hesitate, feeling unsurety stiffen my body. It seems to pass at the acknowledgment of it, as though only remaining long enough for me to recognize these newfound emotions she’s instilled in me. Because uncertainty implies that I care enough to question how I should act.

With that horrifying realization, my arms fold round her, pulling her tightly against my chest. She sniffles against me, splattering my skin with an assortment of liquids I’d rather not consider at the moment.

‘I-I’m sorry,’ she whispers, choking on the words. ‘I had nowhere else to go.’

My hand tilts her face up towards mine, allowing me full view of her distraught complexion. ‘What happened? What’s going on?’

Another sniff. ‘I was on my way to the F-Fort, and there was this group of men in the alley.’ My blood begins to boil before she’s even finished her sentence. ‘They started saying… things. And then they were f-following me and—’ Her eyes well with angry tears. ‘I started running. I-I didn’t know what to do—’

‘Shh.’ I run a hand down the length of her curls, feeling a hiccup jostle her body. ‘You did the right thing. Run to me. Always run to me.’

Except that I won’t be here much longer. If everything goes according to plan.

I say none of that, of course, in an effort to conceal my cowardliness. She blinks up at me, tears clinging to her thick lashes. ‘Did I wake you? I’m sorry, I should have—’

‘Kicked their asses?’ I finish with a sigh. ‘Yes, but you don’t know how to do that, do you?’

She shakes her head, sniffling with the movement. ‘Pae was always there to kick… asses for me.’

She hesitates at the profanity, as though considering if this situation warrants it. Her internal dilemma almost makes me smile.

‘Yes, well, she’s not here anymore,’ I say slowly. ‘So, maybe it’s time for you to learn for yourself.’

She steps out of my hold, a look of uncertainty on her face. ‘You see, I’m really more of a lover than a fighter.’

‘Yes, I’ve gathered that.’ My words are much softer than anticipated, as though she’s somehow coaxed the compassion out of me. She turns away, hiding her face in the shadow I’m casting over her. ‘Look at me.’ Again, each word is soft enough to comfort, but stern enough to steal her attention. Her head tilts back towards me. ‘Are you all right?’

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