Page 17 of Nyx
That I might not be cursed to live this half-life with this half-empty heart.
I move up his frame, allowing myself to examine the firm muscles in his arms before looking at his face, where that smile holds, patient and unwavering. He’s always so steady, a counterpart to my insecure volatility.
It terrifies me, because I want to know more. This curiosity about another is uncharted territory, but I’m desperate to learn more about Reyes. What motivates him, and what he likes.
Did he like the rock I left him? Did he even realize it was from me? It was such a small thing, such a ridiculous spur-of-the-moment idea, but it reminded me of his eyes and how they sparkle that same gold in the sun. It was already in my pocket when he showed up at the creek, andI wanted him to have it. I wanted him to know I see him, just like he makes me feel seen.
“Hi, Nyx.” I swallow my spiraling nerves as I stand and dust off my hands. His eyes move from my filthy palms and knees to the flowers freshly tucked into the ground. His lips twitch in a way that tells me he’s amused by something I’ve done, but there’s no malice behind it. He never makes me feel judged. “Have you been adding to your garden?” he asks, and I nod, gesturing needlessly at the small yellow flowers.
“Dandelions,” he says, still with that patient smile as I test the word.
“Dan-dee-lion?”
His smile spreads, and with it, the warmth in my chest. “That’s right. Some people call them weeds, but I think they’re beautiful.”
“What is thisweed?” His mouth twitches again when I drag out the sound a little too long, and I find myself staring at his lips. The top one is flatter than the bottom, and usually pulled tight unless he’s smiling. I like it when he smiles, and he gives more of them to me than the others. It feels like a gift.
“A weed is a plant, like these dandelions, that people don’t like because they’re invasive.”
“In-vay-sive?” I mimic, and his eyes crinkle happily, as if he enjoys my questions. Despite my natural curiosity, if I don’t understand a word, I let it go rather than risk annoying someone by asking. Reyes is soft and kind, though, and doesn’t seem to mind.
He shifts the box in his hands so he can gesture at the flowers. “It means they spread quickly. You’ve put those inthe ground, but in a few weeks, you’ll have many more of them in your garden and the grass surrounding it. Some people don’t like that.”
“Why?” I wrinkle my nose, and he chuckles.
“You know, that’s a good question. I’m not really sure. They live in places where other plants would die and take root in spots they shouldn’t be able to grow.”
“They are strong,” I say, and Reyes’s expression is different when he looks at me this time. Softer. Pensive.
“Theyarestrong,” he agrees with a tender smile. “Resilient… and a touch stubborn.”
A blush touches my cheeks at his sly, knowing grin, and my eyes drop to where he bites his bottom lip between his teeth. Before I get uncomfortable with his attention, though, he continues. “Dandelions can be eaten, too, or dried to make tea.”
“They taste good?”
Reyes teeters his hand back and forth in front of him. “A little bitter, but they’re healthy and easy to grow.” He pauses and gives me an assessing look. “Have you seen them when they seed?” I shake my head, and he grins.
“Hold on a second…” He dashes off to the other side of the house, and I peer around the corner. There’s barely enough time to wonder where he went before he returns, holding a white puff of a flower in his free hand.
“Now, don’t get mad at me for picking it,” he warns. “It has lived its life already, and this is how it spreads its seeds.” I nod as he comes closer, showing me the wispy ball of tiny, fuzzy white seeds. “This is also a dandelion.”
My brows bunch as I glance between the bright yellow flowers and the white puff. “They are the same?”
“Yes, they are. When I was a kid, we used to make a wish and then blow the seeds so it would come true.”
“A wish?” I question, and he nods as he twirls the flower between his fingers.
“A wish is… a prayer?” He shakes his head, chewing on his lip like he’s having a hard time forming the words.ThatI understand perfectly. “It’s something you want to happen, so wishing for it is like… making a request that it will.”
“To who?”
He laughs at my question, a rich sound that makes that heat spread through my chest and flutter. His dark curls bounce, and I’m so enrapt by him, I forget what I asked until he answers it.
“To whoever will listen, I suppose.”
No one has ever listened to my wishes, and the fates and gods abandoned me long ago, though I don’t dare interrupt his happiness by mentioning that. Reyes’s laughter fades, but the crinkles in the corners of his eyes remain as he inches closer to me. That lightness morphs to something different, something heavier, and my heart thumps in my chest as my breath catches in my lungs.
“Do you want to make a wish, Nyx?”
