Page 179 of Legacy
I clean her face, then her hands. The skin across her knuckles is split; nothing deep, but angry red with blooming bruises beneath.
I grab the peroxide and dab it on gently, watching her only flinch once.Dio, even her pain is beautiful.
She’s silent the whole time, until I reach for the hem of her shirt.
And that’s when she moves.
Her fingers snap around my wrists, surprisingly firm, eyes sharp now—awake.
“I can do it,” she says.
I freeze. Not because I’m offended, but because the way she says it tells me she needs this piece of control.
So I nod.
I rise to my feet and step back. “Alright.”
I leave the bathroom without another word, pulling the door closed behind me.
She’s strong. Fierce. Capable of war.
But I’d burn the world down to make sure she never has to lift her hands again.
I sit on the edge of the bed, raking a hand through my hair.
“What do you want for lunch?” I ask through the door. “I could order pizza. We could sit on the couch, put on Law and Order. Pretend today never happened.”
A pause.
Then, she laughs.
Soft.
Light.
It hits me like a sucker punch to the ribs.
That laugh.At something I said. It stirs something primal in my chest. Something tender. Something dangerous.
“Yes,” she calls back. “But two pies. One has to have black olives.”
I blink, eyebrows lifting. “Since when do you like black olives on your pizza? I thought it was strictly pepperoni and cheese. No compromise.”
The door opens.
She steps out, clean now. In my t-shirt. Her hair twisted into a loose bun. Skin glowing, lips flushed, eyes still a little wild, but clear.
And I’m gone.
Utterly gone.
“There was a job in Greece,” she says casually, walking barefoot toward me. “I smuggled…” She pauses, then smiles. “Alexandrite.”
Of course she did.
“Anyway, I tried black olives on pizza while I was there. Hooked ever since.”
Alexandrite. Rare. Changes color in different light. One of the most precious stones in the world.
