Page 142 of Cerulean Truth
Leaning against the wall, I let my head hang, feeling the exhaustion hit hard. I was running on pure adrenaline, the chaos of the encounter replaying in my mind like a broken record. Ten minutes later, Justine came out, her face tight with unspoken thoughts. My heart pounded, bracing for bad news, but she quickly gave me some reassurance.
"She'll be all right. I think her translation used up too much energy, as if she didn’t know how much of her emotions she needed to channel." Before I could respond, she added, "Whatever you two were doing, it's none of my business. I fixed the bleeders, and she should be as good as new. Just let her getsome sleep." I nodded gratefully as she walked away, but I called her back.
"Thanks, Justine. I appreciate it. And, seriously, please keep this under wraps, okay?" My concern for Emma overrode any desire for explanations or judgments. Justine nodded. I didn't linger on it; I rushed back inside, relieved to find Emma sitting up on my bed.
“How are you doing?” I asked gently, closing the door behind me.
“I’m fine… is that awful? I know I should feel terrible, and I do, on some level but…” She hesitated.
“But you’re relieved to have translated, effectively confirming you actually can,” I finished her sentence, smiling. She nodded shyly.
I exhaled before continuing. “I should be angry at you, for leaving in the first place, without notifying me and without any means of returning,” I started, “but,” I raised my hand before she could retort, “I’m not… not really… I’m feeling relieved, to have seen you translate, and gods, Emma, that shit was impressive! You have the raw power of an at least five-hundred-year-old maga! It’s insane! Those Radicals are lucky they’re still alive!” I spoke almost enthusiastically and Emma blushed.
She was cute when she blushed; horrible timing though.
“This is the second time they came after me…” she looked down at her hands, and my heart sank, hoping she wouldn’t ask questions I didn’t have the answers to. Or worse, those I did.
She looked back up at me, eyes filled with worry. “You really think there could be another reason than my untraceable translation?”
I shrugged, trying to ignore the knots in my stomach that formed at the tremble in her voice. “It’s clear you have incredible power; they might only be after you for that. But whatever the reason, we need to get you into extreme training mode and fast.Not just for protection against them but also…” I let out a deep sigh, "You could've hurt yourself immensely, though. You're lucky you got away with some small bleeders Justine could fix. But without urgent training, next time, it could end quite differently."
To my surprise, Emma agreed. “You’re absolutely right James, and to be honest, I can’t wait! I really hope this somehow… I don’t know, opened up some jammed magic I had all along or something.” Whatever she wanted to say next was lost in a big yawn.
“Let’s get you to your dorm” I instructed. “You need to rest and heal.” I started opening a portal.
“Can I… can I walk there?” she asked softly. “I don’t want to portal there. I don’t want any magic right now, if you don’t mind.”
I raised an eyebrow, then nodded slowly. “I understand, don’t worry, I’ll walk you.” She got up too quickly and nearly collapsed. My instincts kicked in as I moved to steady her, preventing another fall.Damn it, Emma.
“Careful, Emma. You lost some blood; are you sure you want to walk?” I inspected her, worry flooding my system.
“Yes, I really am,” she answered sternly, conviction in her eyes, as she leaned on me for support.
Holding her steady, I couldn't help but feel admiration for her strength.
I wanted to reprimand her for telling Enya about the untraceable nature of her translation, but figured another authoritative speech could probably wait a few hours.
Arriving at her dorm, she turned to her door and opened it, but before she could go in, I firmly closed it again. She looked at me in surprise, and I offered a reassuring smile, hoping to convey the noble intentions behind the action.
“I uhm…after everything, and before you go in, I wanted to thank you for also saving me tonight…” I uttered difficultly.
She smirked at me, obviously knowing those words hadn’t come easily. “You’re welcome. Honestly, I felt it was due.”
I chuckled.
She raised her hand all of a sudden to touch my face, and I instinctively backed away; I hadn’t expected her to do that. There was a brief moment of vulnerability in her eyes, as she paled at my reaction, realizing her unexpected gesture had caught me off guard. She dropped her hand instantly, a mix of understanding and regret in her eyes.
Fuck, I think I messed that up.
“Goodnight, James” she muttered under her breath, turning around back to the door. I should have stopped her, I should have grabbed her, should have turned her around. Back to me, maybe even kissed her, but I was dead in my tracks.
I watched her go in, hating myself deeply for my inaction. I’d always had such game with women, I had no idea what was happening to me.
Standing there for a full minute, I stared at her closed door, contemplating whether to knock and fix my mistake. I didn’t. I turned around and portaled back to my dorm without rectifying my ball-less moment.
Fighting off Radicals, getting a maga back home from the Human World at three o'clock in the morning, leading a whole Collective–no problem! But, my gods, letting Emma know I liked her... There was nothing scarier in the world.
The next day,I met up with Justine for coffee before my training session with Emma. I wanted to thank her again forher help the night before and for handling everything with such discretion. She was incredibly gracious, never once making me feel guilty for putting her in a tight spot. Instead, she reassured me of her discretion and reiterated she didn’t want to know any details about the previous night’s events.
