Page 87 of Shadows and Flames
A few strands gave me purchase, and I focused on Elián’s answer. “A Shadow like my father. I did not see a life without my family, but other than this, I am doing what I thought I would.”
“Fucking rival assassins in a different realm, you mean?”
He twisted, just enough for his pupil to sear into mine. “Not rivals. And…no. I did not expect you.”
He turned back around, and I picked the comb back up to get the rest of the knot. My fang caught on the edge of my lip as I dared, “Is that a bad thing?”
“It is the best thing.”
I nearly dropped the comb as it slid smoothly through the section I was working on. I could leave his words to trail and disappear in the air. Not beat them into something recognizable. But, alas. “We were together for a few days, thenyearsapart filled with loss afterward. How can I be the best thing for you, El?” Never mind the fact he was that for me. He’d given me more than he ever knew. My heart and soul had been ripped from my body and trampled under the heels of fate, but to be with him, I would do it all over again.
“Do not put words in my mouth. Do not use my pain to inflict more onto yourself.” I sniffed and swatted away my tears, hopefully before he could sense them. He was right. Tanahad been right. But that didn’t make it any easier to stop. I apologized to him, and he grunted, accepting it. “You bring life to me.” More tears erupted, and I batted those away, too. “With you I feel as though…I can be all parts of me. You challenge me to speak but do not truly push when I need the silence. You match me with a sharpness, something I can grab onto.”
I pulled the comb through, testing the work I’d done and was met with a smooth glide, no resistance. The bottle he’d given me was half-full, and I plucked out the stopper and carefully poured a small amount onto my palm. I made sure the bottle was secure and used my own body heat to warm the oil. My fingernails acted as tines, raking the liquid through his pitch-black locks.
“You do that for me. Calm me. Enliven me. I think that’s why I argue with you so much.”
I poured a few more drops of oil and got to massaging Elián’s scalp once more, this time pressing the oil in with each roll of pressure. He grumbled sleepily. “I like to spar with you. But I don’t like to fight with you.”
“I don’t like it either.” We were quiet for a while, as I ensured every part of Elián’s hair and scalp were touched by the oil. That any tension left was cracked and spilled.
When I used one of the leather ties to pull half of his hair out of the way and neatly portioned three even sections at his hairline, Elián whispered another question. “Why did you cut your hair?”
I’d not braided anyone else’s hair in a long while, but I quickly adapted and started on the plait, securing tightly without drawing too taut. And my answer, like so many, all led to him. “You.” He didn’t prompt me, and after completing about half of the braid, I found the words to explain further. “I wanted something…drastic. To match the way I felt, the loss. And through the years, I got used to the ease, to cutting it once it reached a certain length. Why did you grow yours? Do younormally keep it this length?” I cast off from his scalp, finishing the rest of the plait quickly.
“No. After leaving you, I neglected myself for many months. My hair grew, and when I found the energy to cut it, I saw my father each time I looked in the mirror. I could not bear to cut it, save for trimming the ends.”
That made me sad, cold and chin quivering. I tied the end of the completed braid and started on the other. “You are very handsome, and it suits you. Did you look very much alike?”
“Leandro and I were always told we inherited more features from our mother. Her coloring, whereas my father’s skin was paler. His hair lighter. But, when I smile, which he did often, I see him. When I am sorrowful, I see him. In my anger, I see my mother.”
I did not envy anyone who crossed Roza, then. “So, you had two beautiful parents. No wonder you look like this.”
This time, Elián accepted my attempt at jest. When it was no longer self-deprecating. From where I sat, thighs bracketing his broad shoulders, I saw the valley of his dimple. The one he inherited from his father.
“And what is your favorite body part of mine, Your Highness?”
That cocksure smirk drew a chuckle from me. “Well, it would be too easy to say your cock or your hands, though they may just make second and third on the list. But, I would say your eyes.” He rolled them. They weren’t their usual vibrant shade, but they still held the same effect. “You communicate far more with them than you do with your words. That I’ve irritated you. That I’ve confounded you. That I’m safe with you. I dreamt about them most nights when we were apart.”
“And now? What do you dream about?”
The answer locked at the bottom of my throat. Slamming behind layers and layers of reinforcements. I wouldn’t be able toget it out if I tried. Not with the hushed tranquility between us tonight. After… after Francie. If I made it back with them, out of this world and into ours, I would tell him.
For now, I tied off the second plait and responded with, “This and that. Now, when I need your eyes, I need only to turn and find them.”
I settled the braids over his shoulders, so they could fall down his chest and he could see them. Elián ran over the bumps of the woven strands, and a gust of wind carried with it fresh dampness and crisp, evening air.
El appeared before me, my favorite part of him staring back at me, hands braced on the bed. He leaned closer, bringing our noses to brush and his breath to skate across my cheek. “El,” I whispered.
He took my jaw in hand, tilting me where he wanted. Before he eliminated the last bit of distance between our lips, he said, lower than a whisper, “Thank you, my queen.”
In a world where we couldn’t say the words, they weren’t needed and even that more special.Eliánwas special and too good for me. If there was any chance, any hope, for us, I would have to open myself up to him leaving me again. Hating me.
Rather than descend into the pit of the unavoidable, I kissed him, taking my ability to speak and pouring everything I could not say into him.
I love you.
For what I am hiding from you, I am so, so sorry.
