“Blake?” Luna calls from beside me. Flinching, my hand tightens around the scissors. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” she mumbles, backing away. “I… I asked if you wanted any cream or sugar for your coffee.”
Peeking around her, I take note of two mugs sitting out and vanilla creamer next to them. Turning back to Luna, I’m not sure what to say. I hate this awkward chit-chat; I should have stayed in the room. Or at least woke Jace up before I just ventured out here. He might not understand what I sign, but at least he somewhat understands the feelings I have.
“I don’t want to be rude, but I… is it me?” I frown, confused about what she’s saying. She must sense from my furrowed brows that I don’t understand before she’s rushing to clarify. “The reason you don’t talk. I assume the reason you won’t speak is because you hate me.”
Immediately, I shake my head. If only she knew.
“Oh.”
Motioning with my hand to write, it’s much easier to do that than to try and sign. Luna nods her head, running off to her bedroom. In no time she returns with a pad of paper and a pen, handing them over to me.
Taking a deep breath, I write down,I’m mute.
Handing it over, Luna reads it, glancing up and then back down at the paper. I’m used to those not understanding why I don’t talk. Sometimes I don’t even fully understand it. I used to try and open my mouth, to make the words come out but they never do. They get stuck in my throat, and I can’t force them out.
“That’s okay, I guess. I’m glad it’s not because of me,” she mumbles, handing the paper back over. “Are you hungry? I’m sure you are, after, uh, last night.”
Nodding my head, my stomach decides then to growl. Pressing my lips together, I roll my tongue between my teeth.
“I can make something if you would like,” Luna shrugs. “You can sit at the island if you want. I’m sure Jace will be awake soon.”
Just the mention of Jace has me glancing behind me, wishing he would suddenly open the door. Only he doesn’t, and I know Luna is waiting for me to answer about making me something to eat. Grabbing the pad of paper, I write downDo you have cinnamon rolls?
Sliding it over, Luna takes it. “Oh! I do!” She chuckles. Dropping the paper back down, she turns around and gets into the fridge. While she makes the cinnamon rolls, I watch the coffee pot, wanting to get myself a cup, but feeling anxiety rising in my throat. I know nothing bad would happen, but I can’t stop the panic rising the more I continue sitting here with her. The worst part, the idea of Jace walking out of the room brings some sort of comfort. It’s all I can think about, the need to be around him.
I don’t want to need him.
I was fine on my own.
I was fine being alone.
But now? I feel like if I don’t see Jace he’s going to end up leaving me behind. That he’s going to get a better job, that something or someone better is going to come along.
Like Luna.
She has her shit together from the looks of it. I mean, for fuck’s sake, she can talk. They can laugh and have conversations together. What am I going to give him? Taps when he only asks me yes or no questions. How can he even stand me now? Not only did I throw a knife at him the moment we met, but I’ve stabbed him twice. I locked myself in rooms because I couldn’t bear the idea of being near anyone. He asked me last night if I trusted him alone in the room with the door locked and I said no. But that wasn’t true, not fully. It scared me that I wanted to say yes. That only a few days alone with this man and I was willing to let my guard down so quickly.
I hate it.
I can’t help but love that there might be someone that I can trust and let go with, just a little anyway.
The sound of the door opening has me up and out of the kitchen island chair faster than I’d like to admit. Jace fills the doorway, sweatpants hanging loose on his hips and bare chest on display. Narrowing my eyes, I know for a fact Luna is also staring at him.
“Good morning,” Jace's raspy voice fills the silent cabin.
“Good morning,” Luna of course answers.
Frowning, I drop back down into the chair. Keeping my head down, I watch from the corner of my eye as he walks into the kitchen and grabs a cup of coffee. Of course, he would feel comfortable enough to walk around almost naked, and to get coffee. I should’ve known he was lying about them either having a past or that something was going on with them.
I try my best to ignore Jace as he walks around and drops into the chair beside me. But he doesn’t make it easy, not when he notices the paper and pen.
“Blake,” he utters.
Biting my inner cheek, I refuse to acknowledge him. It’s better to ignore him than to get my feelings hurt. I’d probably end up stabbing him again, and I’d rather not do that. I just black out sometimes and end up doing something harmful.
“I know you can hear me, and I don’t like being ignored. So, tell me, how do you sign good morning?”
That shocks me and I glance up at him. Jace sips on his coffee, waiting for me to answer him. Cocking my head to the side, I try to think of what ASL is for good morning, but since I’ve only been signing for three years, I’m not a master at it. Dragging the paper over, I write,I’m not sure. I don’t think I’ve ever signed good morning to anyone.