Page 6 of Nyx
Sometimes, you have to get rid of the broken bits to let the rest flourish.
My eyes dart to Nyx again, a tiny emerald beacon on that hill. I wonder how many of his broken bits need to be pruned so the rest can thrive.
Reyes
Thesunisanuclear ball of pissed-off fire today. By the time I’m done tending to the garden, my shirt is soaked and my curls are plastered to my head. Even under the cooling canopy of the trees, the heat has been excruciating lately. Sweat trickles along my spine, and I tense my shoulders to fight against its tickle. After I store my tools and pump another few buckets of water for the poor plants, I walk towards Ronan and Cameron’s house. We’ve formed a cooking circle in the grass beside it, and it has become the unofficial meeting spot for dinner most nights. There always seems to be a flurry of activity this time of day.
I don’t eat with the others very often. Years of isolation have conditioned me to exist in silence. I love everyone here and enjoy their company, but sometimes it’s too much. The competing voices and bursts of laughter give me a headache, and even something as simple as the constant buzz of low conversation can be overwhelming. Some nights, I crave the quiet.
Tonight is one of those nights.
The chipper sounds of the group reach me as I get closer, and they grind against my eardrums like a mortar and pestle. My teeth clench against the sensory overload.
Ronan stands at the fire, cooking in the giant cast-iron pot he uses for most meals. It’s even hotter here next to the flames, and a fresh wave of perspiration builds on my back.
“Hey, uh, Ronan?” I ask as I get closer. His sweat forms a fine, shimmering mist that highlights his good looks instead of turning him into a melting candle, and I’m immediately jealous. He glances up at me, a silent question on his face. “While I have you alone, I wanted to ask a favor.”
“A favor?” he asks, lifting his brow. “Awfully presumptuous of you to ask for something after you stabbed me. In fact, you owe me for that. Pain and suffering, plus the added torture of having to look at your face every day.”
“Oh, my gods. You stab a man in the shoulder once,justonce, and no one ever lets you live it down.”
“Never,” he agrees, and that single word is strangely menacing.
“One of my requests has something to do with that, funnily enough. I was, uh, wondering if you could teach me to fight? Maybe Elas could help, too?” Both his eyebrows fly up to his hairline as he considers me, and I wring my hands as I stare at the fire. “It’s just that… we’re safe out here, right? It feels safe, at least. Comfortable. But we might not always be here, and we can’t predict what’s going to happen. I want to be able to protect myself, and the others, if I need to.”
“I can respect that,” he says with a slow nod. “Elas will deny it, but my swordsmanship is better than his. He is a more skilled marksman, though.”
The thought of dealing with the noise and chaos of a gun makes me cringe. “Yeah, no, smaller and quieter is more my style. Not to mention, we don’t have ammo to spare. I’m more comfortable with a dagger, but hand to hand combat would be useful, too.”
His lips pull into a thoughtful line that turns annoyed. “Elas claims he’s better at brawling, but it’s just because the fucker is so godsdamned big.” It’s my turn to raise my brows at him, letting my gaze climb to his eyes that are almost a full foot above mine.
“Right,” I drawl. “And you’re so small and delicate. A real wilting flower.”
“Mouthy human,” he mutters, flashing a fang at me, but I’ve learned he just enjoys threatening me. It’s a sport to him, so since I’m asking for something from him, I let him have it.
“You’ll help me?”
He turns serious as he nods. “Yes, of course. The more protection we have, the safer my Cameron will be. Let me talk to Elas, and we’ll come up with a plan.”
“Thanks, Ronan,” I say, and he starts to turn away, but I grab his wrist to stop him. He’s back to being a snarly oversized cat and glares at where I hold onto him. “Wait a second… I wasn’t finished. I need another favor.”
“Pressing your luck now.” He jerks his hand from my grip, and really, my eyeroll at his dramatics is involuntary. I couldn't help it if I tried.
“This one is more, um… personal? I’d appreciate it if you kept it between us.”
Interest piqued, he chews on his lip for a moment, and I have to hold in my laughter at how he obviously wants to hear the gossip. “Fine, but Cameron and I don’t have secrets.”
“That goes without saying, and I’d never ask you to lie to your mate… but could you otherwise keep it quiet?”
“I’ll consider it.” It’s the closest I’ll get to a commitment, and I can see the pleasure he’s getting from my discomfort as I purse my lips.
“Could you teach me to cook?”
“Cook?”
“Yeah, uh,” I grip the back of my neck and tug, a blush forming on my face as I glance up at his eyes again. “Calorie-dense foods, preferably… ones that don’t have any meat in them?”
“Ahhh,” Ronan breathes, and my skin burns hotter.
