Page 20 of Nyx
So, I wait, and I enjoy our quiet evenings together, gorging myself on those tiny lip twitches and the honeysuckle scent of his hair. I get drunk on the pleasure he takes from the food I bring him. We spend time together until he gets restless, and then we say goodbye.
Both nights, I’ve found another rock waiting outside my doorstep. They feel like a message he can’t find the words to say—a way for him to say thanks. Smooth-edged and shimmering, they rest in my windowsill along with the first, and I cherish those, too.
But now I have another excuse to seek him out, and a better reason to ask for his company. Sweat slicks my palms as I fist one and swing it towards his door, hesitating for a moment before his near-silent footsteps approach. His face appears in the crack as he opens it, and he immediately looks at my hands. There are no snacks this time, and his obvious disappointment makes me grin.
His eyes lift to mine once more. They’re still heavy with the weight of every hidden thing from his past, but they are lighter now than I’ve ever seen them. His cheeks are fuller, and the harsh lines that scored his forehead have softened.
Nyx peeks around my side as if I might be hiding a snack behind my back, and I can’t help it as a laugh slips free. He flinches like he always does at a loud, unexpected noise, but he’s unafraid when he looks up at me, if a little sheepish.
“Hi,” he breathes, and I snap myself out of my stupor as I realize I’m staring.
“Today is harvest day,” I blurt, and his brows pinch like they do when I’ve said something he doesn’tunderstand. “Most of the plants are ready to pick, and I thought you might like helping.”
“The food plants?” A flicker of budding excitement shines in his eyes, and gods, he’s so fucking sweet. I want to tuck him into a blanket fort and feed him treats until he’s content. My lips press together as I try to hold back my laughter, and I succeed, if barely.
“Yes, the food plants. I gather the ripe vegetables when I spot them, but right now, there are a lot ready to be picked. Cameron and August are setting up a station for canning.”
“Canning?” His head tilts, and I nod excitedly. Harvest has always been one of my favorite times of the year. It’s the reward for those endless hours of hard work. Sore muscles and dirty fingernails, sun on the back of my neck, and baskets of colorful bounty serving as a prize. The sense of accomplishment that comes from the contribution.
It’s my way of protecting our people.
“Canning is where we store the food in glass jars,” I explain. “When we heat the jars, it preserves what’s inside them… keeps it fresh for a long time. That way, even when the plants aren’t growing, we have vegetables to eat.”
“And you want… my help?”
“Only if you want to help.” My smile is soft as he bites his lip, but then he nods. He takes a step closer, out of the shadows of his cottage and into the morning sun.
“I do,” he insists, but his gaze drops to the ground, and I follow his eyes to his bare feet. They’re as green as the grass that reaches onto the path, and his toes curl against the dirt. “It is time I…” He pauses, like he does when he’s trying to remember a word. “Contribute,” he finally settles on.
“That’s a good word,” I say, and he lifts a single shoulder in a shrug. “You shouldn’t worry about that. No one expects anything from you, you know.”
“They should. I always take.”
“Maybe that’s what you deserve,” I say, and his eyes flick up to mine. “So much has been taken from you. It’s your turn to be selfish. Grow your flowers and eat your snacks and just… justbe, Nyx. Learn what makes you happy and make that your focus.”
“What makes me… happy?” He blinks thoughtfully, tilting his head and looking down the path. “The garden makes me happy.”
My smile breaks through at the admission, and I nod encouragingly. “That’s really good, sweetheart.” His eyes blow wide at the same time mine do at the slip, and he swallows roughly as my lips settle into a nervous line.
“And...” He trails off, glancing away.
“And?” I hedge, wanting to hear more of his joy, but he only shakes his head and shuffles between his feet. Recognizing the signs of an impending shutdown, I shift the conversation back to where we started. “Do you want to harvest the garden with me?”
“Yes, I want to help,” he says with a nod. My mouth opens, ready to tell him how happy I am to spend the day with him, or maybe how proud of him I am for stepping out of his comfort zone, but he speaks before I can give the words life. “Do I…” He gestures at the ground between us, and I furrow my brows as I try to interpret.
“Do you what?” I finallyask.
“Need shoes?” Fuck, my heart cracks again at his uncertainty.
“Do youwantto wear shoes, Nyx?”
“No.”
“Then don’t wear shoes.”
His body language has shifted to wringing hands and slumped shoulders, shuffling and screaming his insecurities with every tiny movement. “Do you not think I am strange? Barefoot and quiet and, and…” His fingers move to his hair and push through the long strands as he shakes his head. “And damaged.”
“We’re all a little damaged, Nyx,” I say carefully, fighting my urge to reach for him. “But if it makes you feel less alone, I have a simple solution.” He takes a series of deep breaths, hands still in his hair as I kick my shoes aside and peel off my socks.
