Page 29 of Missed Sunrise
My mind was simultaneously quiet and agitated, like a hummingbird forced to idle.
A breath later, I surrendered and dropped my gaze to his pants, then gestured to them, or specifically, to the dried paint splatters on them. “And now they’re your crafty pants?” I asked stupidly.
I chanced a look back at him and found his attention still on me as he answered with a small, secretive smirk. “Sure.”
My eyes narrowed, but then I decided it would be better for me and my deserted and destroyed nerves if I didn’t prod.
Liem unfurled himself from his slumped position and angled his body toward me. “Something happened.”
I blew out a breath and pointedly eyed his pants again—specifically the grass stains on his knees. Then I raised my eyebrows at him in a silent “You too?”
He cocked his head to the side, but then a yawn overtook him. He folded back into his lounging position as he rode it out, smiling softly to himself. “Let’s relax, Dezi. Indulge in some quiet time with me.”
I sighed. “I don’t know that I know how.”
Another beat of silence. Then two. Then ten. A fucking million.
I’d never met anyone so comfortable with unfilled space.
While Bree tended to do anything she could to smooth them out and build bridges between everyone surrounding such a space, Liem seemed content to simply sink into them and let others do the same.
My lovely brain, on the other hand, was typically repulsed by such things and would fill the space with incessant mental chatter and intrusive thoughts.
And after this morning’s coffee-and-whip fiasco, I was afraid?—
Liem’s serene voice cut in. “Would you like for me to try to help with that?”
I frowned. “With being quiet? Are we playing the quiet game?” I squeezed my eyes shut, almost seasick from the shortened mental spiral.
When I found my bearings and I looked at Liem again, everything about him broadcasted serenity.
It was the opposite of how he’d looked when I’d first approached, so he must’ve known what he was doing.
“Tell me how I can help you best, Dezi.”
Today was for memories, it seemed.
“Tell me what to do. Please,” I answered.
He smiled again, but the rise and fall of his chest stayed constant. The longer I took it in—his skin, those piercings, his Liem-ness—the more my breathing became as erratic as my thoughts.
Thankfully, his eyes remained shut as he gave his first instruction.
“Let’s start with your body.”
My heart jumped out of the cart. I was no longer thankful, especially as other things jumped, too, but I pretended not to notice as Liem continued.
“Can you drop your shoulders for me? They’re lovely, but I think you’d like them more if they weren’t trying to touch your ears.”
I did as he asked, and a long exhale was forced from my lungs with the downward movement. “How did you know?”
His eyebrows lifted even as his eyes remained closed. “Just a hunch. Now, can you get into a comfortable position? Let me know if I need to move. I can relax anywhere.”
I snorted. “I know. Remember when Bree found you having a siesta in the motion theater pod?”
His smile grew. “I do. I was just glad she woke me before the next show started. I think my brother would have left me to that fright as a lesson on the dangers of public repose.”
“And you’re not worried he’ll find you here, doing the same? Why not nap at the cottage?”
