Page 70 of Forget Me Not
Syve
Bastiensleptforfourdays.
It took Cyrus threatening to physically remove her from the room and bathe her himself for her to leave Bas’ side. The steaming hot water had felt transcendent—though she was loath to admit that to Cyrus. When she stepped back into the room fifteen minutes later, it was one of those rare moments he was actually there.
After helping Bastien to bed and storming out of the house, he had been scarce, gone forhoursat a time. He would show up, grim faced, demanding an update and then he would be gone again. Multiple times Soriah had to corner the man to force food in his face and twice she backed himinto the bathroom for a shower. Ironic that he was the one to finally get Syve to bathe.
Someone, likely Del, had recovered Syve’s clothes from the yard and washed them for her. It felt nice to be in her own clothes again, minus the underwear she had shredded while teasing Bas, and her phone had been in her shorts.
Sending Aimi into another panic on top of everything else would have beenfantastic. Syve had barely spoken five words when she called her friend, but it was enough. Aimi showed up to the Yerovi house thirty minutes later with hot coffee, a box of mac’n’cheese from Thyme to Eat and a duffel bag full of Syve’s clothes.
The clean clothes and feel-good food were a boon, the coffee being the cherry on top. The next morning, and every morning since, she had shown up with coffee for the whole house—Cyrus included, to Syve’s surprise.
On the fifth day, Syve woke up to a hand stroking her hair.
“Good morning, Bambi.”
She blinked up at Bas, her nose a breath away from his chin. Eyes wide, she looked down to see she had clearly burrowed into him, again, while she slept—her fingers still threaded into his chest hair and one leg thrown over his hip.
An inhuman sound escaped her throat as she quickly removed her leg and rolled onto her back, fire engulfing her face and chest. Just as abruptly as she had rolled away, she was back again, this time fussing over the dressings across his torso.
“I didn’t hurt you, did I? That’s not what—I didn’t wake you did I? Thank God, it’s not bleeding again—what an idiot. I’m so sorry Bas—”
Fingers on her chin stole the rest of the words from her mouth.
“I’m fine, Bambi.” He tilted her head up, forcing her to meet his eyes. “And I won’t lie, waking up next to you would be worth reopening the wound.” The corner of his mouth quirked up for a second and then immediately melted away, replaced with a worried frown. “Bambi, what’s wrong?” He searched her eyes as he wiped tears from her cheeks with his thumb.
She hadn’t noticed she was crying, though she did knowwhy.
Her lip quivered as she glared at him. “If youeverdo that to me again—” The threat died on her tongue, swallowed by the sob building in her throat. Bastien shushed her sweetly, tucking her head beneath his chin and stroking her back. “I am so sorry, Syve. I just…”
“I know,” she whimpered, and she did know.
Without a doubt she knew that if there had been any opportunity for revenge against the loss of her family, she would take it—she could not fault him for that.
“How long was I out?” His throat vibrated against her forehead, the breath of his words tickling her scalp as it passed through her hair.
She opened her mouth to reply when a voice cut in.
“Four months. Really thought you were going to miss Christmas. Nice of you to wake up in time to open presents but not buy any.”
Begrudgingly, she pulled away and turned to scowl at Cyrus. “Don’t be a shithead, shithead.”
As he howled with laughter, she turned back to Bas and added softly, “It’s only been four days. Ignore him.”
Bastien’s furrowed brows melted leaving one raised a fraction as he mumbled conspiratorially, “I usually do.” He winked and she snorted, giggling into her hand.
“Hey! That was rude.” Even without looking Syve could tell Cyrus was pouting. “All that after I came up here to stand guard so you could finally go home.”
Syve tensed at his words.
Bastien’s brows dipped in confusion which Cyrus took as a sign to explain, much to her distaste.
“Oh yeah, I had to threaten her—metaphorically. Don’t look at me like that! She wouldn’t leave your side! I made her go take a shower, that’s all! Mama is the one that got her to promise she would go home for a day once you woke up. I’ll bet there’s work to catch up on, or something. It would be good to get some fresh air if nothing else—it’s been a week.”
Now it was Syve’s turn to pout, she knew she should not have agreed to that.
“Bambi, I really can’t believe I’m about to say this, but he’s right. I’m okay—You should go home, check on theshop—”
