Page 37 of The Withering Dawn
“It is not all you have. I’ve seen you weep over Oliver and protect your men. You took mercy on me so I know you’re more than yourhate.” I stood off the floor. “Otherwise, I would not…” I hesitated, wondering if I should swallow my next statement. But his voice rang in my head again.We are always dying tomorrow.“I would not be drawn to you this much.”
My heart did a backflip in my chest at my confession. My cheeks felt like they were on fire again and I blinked, trying to relieve a slight stinging sensation in my eyes. I wasn’t sure why my body was acting that way after a few simple words, but I felt like I needed to get out from under Nazario’s gaze before I saw him judging what I’d just said. I headed for the door, completely unsure where I would go, when he caught my wrist. I turned back to face him, pressing my lips together with embarrassment.
He was staring at me, mouth open like he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. It was then that my eyes found the little scars on his arms again and something tickled my thoughts about them. I reached up, my fingers lightly tracing a row of them on the inside of his bicep.
“How did you get these?”
The question diverted his attention and he released me, looking down at his arm.
“Those were a dozen weak moments that I’ll never forget,” he exhaled. “I imagine you know what it is like to be numb. I see it on your face all the time, this unwillingness to feel your own thoughts.” I nodded, knowing the feeling all too well. “These were my attempts to feel something. Anything.”
“Did they work?”
“Not long enough for it to be worth it,” he smirked, making light of it.
I couldn’t imagine wounding myself so I could feel. I felt too much. For a long time, I just wanted to stop feeling so I could find peace, so I forced myself to.
“What thoughts stir behind those eyes when you stare off like that?”
“I spent years tryingnotto feel anything,” I said. “And yet you’ve spent years trying to feel. It’s strangely fascinating.”
Our eyes locked and for once, I wished I actually could read minds. Nazario was thinking quite hard on something and I wanted to know what it was, but then he blinked, as if coming out of a daze.
“Forgive me,” he finally spoke. “For acting frustrated last night after you grew nervous.”
“Oh.” I tried to recall, but I was too flustered.
When he took a small step toward me, my pulse kicked up like I’d just been startled from my sleep.
“I am not upset,” I said.
“You should be. But perhaps it was for the best that we went no further. You do not need a man like me being the first to touch you like that.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I am not very good at being gentle. And for you, Aeris. I would never want to be anything but gentle.”
“You said to speak up if anything displeased me.”
“Yes.”
“What would displease me?”
He groaned like thinking of the answer to that was frustrating. “I can get carried away.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Of course you do not,” he smiled. “I would not want you to.”
Feeling let down by my own foolish curiosities, I lowered my head with acceptance. Nazario hooked his knuckle under my chin, raising it so he could look at me like hanging my head disturbed him.
“Do not be sad over this. I am no great loss, I promise you.”
“Then why does your rejection sting?”
Immediately, I pressed my fingers over my mouth, wondering why I would say such a thing. It sounded like something the women on the island would say because they were lonely and their husbands were busy indulging in other wives or whores, for which they would repent the next day. It was a desperate statement.
“Rejection?” Nazario said. “You think I am rejecting you?”
