Page 32 of The NemeSis
I hold his gaze, and for a moment, the world feels still. Like it’s just the two of us, suspended in a watercolor painting as everything blurs away.
The soft hum of strings float in the air. Music like before, but barely louder than a whisper. I take in my surroundings; I realize we’re standing in the heart of a maze. Cloaked in night and glowing with soft lanterns and fairy lights. A mix of tall hedges and ivy-covered stone walls surround us. Masked figures are all around, some I recognize from earlier.
Ares still hasn’t moved.
He watches me with coiled patience. Is he waiting for me to react?
“I didn’t scream,” I blurt out.
“You didn’t.” He chuckles. “Most do.”
“I listened.”
He smiles.
Another moment of silence stretches on between us. Not enough to become uncomfortable, but enough to notice the energy crackling between us. I should say something. Maybe even mingle with the others at this party, but I don’t.
Instead, he steps closer to me. Enough so I catch the scent of that secret library smell again. It’s addictive and makes me want to curl up next to him and read a romance novel.
“Do you want to dance?” He offers his hand, palm out and open.
I take it and somethingshifts.
An ethereal current. It’s a pull.
Ares leads me to the center, where several others are dancing. He pulls me in close. One hand at my waist, the other holding mine. His touch is gentle, yet firm. Confident in knowing exactly how close to get without crossing this invisible line.
An invisible line that feels shaky.
I’m trying and failing to focus on his eyes. Those baby blue orbs used to be so easy to hold my attention growing up. Now, I’m having trouble not looking at the rest of his face. The mischief in those blue eyes is like a whirlpool as one side of his mouth rises into a smirk.
As if this man can see right through me.
“You’re trembling,” he murmurs.
Am I?“No, I’m not.”
He leans in slowly, lips brushing the shell of my ear. “Liar.”
It’s not fair, this effect he has on me. How he can see past every wall. His face pulls back, but his eyes stay on mine as we continue to move across the dance floor. Moving as if we’ve been doing it our whole lives.
I suppose, in a way, we have.
Yet, I can’t bring myself to say anything. I don’t speak. The truth is tonight isn’t about the secret society anymore. Not really.
It’s abouthim.
The hand at my waist moves to wrap more around me, pulling me in flush against him in this dance that is feeling more forbidden by the second. His eyes narrow before dipping to my lips. When his eyes meet mine again, they’re dark and intense.
My breathing picks up before stopping altogether, caught somewhere between panic and anticipation. Is this how the world ends? He releases his grip on my hand, and I feel frozen, until his fingers slide up to cradle the back of my neck. Time picks back up and all I can do is look up at him as everything around us turns into a blur of colors.
“We shouldn’t.” His voice comes out low and raw, but his hands don’t move.
I nod in agreement. The words echo in my mind but are quickly thrown out with the feeling of his thumb tracing absent circles on my skin.
“I want to be selfish.” He holds me tighter with that little bit of truth.
Again, I nod. Every logical thought or argument escapes me.
