Page 65 of A Curse of Hope and Shadows: Part I
Unfortunately, he had no stomach for food, no stomach for anything, and his head was pounding. Not quite enough to immobilise him, but enough to stop him taking joy in anything. He wanted to crawl into the dark, but he was equally certain that he wanted to be with her, her smiles the best balm he could ask for.
Towards the end of the day, she sensed something was amiss when she stumbled off the swing only to find him wincing. He saw the flicker in her face as she tried to work out what to go for: distraction or fuss.
“Want to lie down?” she asked.
He shook his head. “I don’t… I don’t want to be alone. Or doing nothing. But…”
“I understand,” she said. “Come with me.”
She led him into the parlour closest to his room, directing him into a chair beside the window, and told him to close his eyes. Closing his eyes felt good, actually. Maybe he could just lie down and…
But the fear of what was to come pulsed through him, and all of a sudden he was awake again.
“Can I look yet?”
“Almost.”
He could hear her running around the room, furniture scraping across the floor. She yanked the pillow from behind him.
“I was using that…”
“Oh, stop with your grouching.” She clapped her hands together. “It’s done.”
Dimitri opened his good eye. Adeline had, for some reason that completely escaped him, dragged several pieces of furniture into the room and draped a collection of blankets over the top.
He frowned as best his headache would allow. “What is it?”
She stared at him incredulously. “It’s a blanket fort.”
“What does it do?”
“Well, that depends. My brothers like to make them to play ‘castles’ with, but they have other uses too. Elliott used to be really frightened of thunder as a child. Mama used to make him a fort every time there was a storm and we’d crawl under together until it had passed.”
Dimitri wasn’t sure what to say to that, only that he was faintly warmed by the vision of a little Adeline, curled up under the blankets with her mother and brother. “I’m not scared of thunder,” he whispered.
“No, but you are scared, and since you won’t tell me quite what of, I thought this might be the next best thing.”
His throat went tight. Adeline’s fingers found his. Wordlessly, she tugged him under the blankets, banging his head on the table beneath.
“Ow…” he groaned.
Adeline put her hand against the bump, massaging it softly. The opening dropped away, darkness blanketing round them.
“It hurts,” he managed.
“I know,” she said, still touching him.
“I didn’t mean the bump. The bump is nothing compared to…” His throat closed again.
“I suspected as much,” she said, and drew him into her arms, down to the nest of pillows.
It was warm in here, against the piles of cushions and blankets, against her. Warm, and soft, and quiet. No one could see them. No one could reach them. No one would ask any kind of judgement if they walked into the room.
Safe. They were safe.
“You don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want to,” Adeline told him. Her fingers found his hair, winding through his tresses, his fur, as if she couldn’t quite tell the difference between the two. He relaxed into the softness of her body, cocooned around him, her heartbeat thumping behind him. “We can just lie here in the dark, if you like.”
It was tempting, but he was afraid his thoughts would grow too loud. “I’d prefer to talk.”
