Page 8 of Nyx
Everyone else has been incredibly welcoming. Cameron and August frequently check in with me, and Lillith will happily talk to anyone. Once Elas and I got past our…differencesat my old camp, he quickly became a friend. Even Taryn has warmed up to me, despite her guardedness.
Xeni keeps his distance, but it isn’t personal. Aside from the few times I’ve seen him in tense conversations with Ronan and Elas, he stays to himself. He chose the most isolated house here, and hasn’t asked for any help with repairs. I haven’t either, unless extra hands were necessary, but his isolation is different.
No one reaches out to him besides August, who occasionally attempts to bring him into the group. But Xeniturns down the invitation every time, and I wonder if someday August might give up on him, too.
I feel sorry for Xeni, and in a way, I understand him.
Everyone wants to paint him as the bad guy because he worked at Ljómur, but no one knows the circumstances that led him to that place. He was trapped in an unwinnable situation, and it doesn’t seem fair for him to be labelled a villain while I’m frequently viewed as a victim.
Our stories aren’t that different, not at their core.
My camp was slaughtered, and I stood back and watched it happen. Never raised a finger to fight as the attack happened. No, I hid in the safety of my underground sanctuary and waited until the danger had passed, then spent the next week cleaning up the devastation.
I moved the bodies of my friends I wasn’t brave enough to help, and cleaned the bloodstains left behind by their death. Crimson nightmares and aching shoulders from too-heavy bodies, and sun-blistered skin from the days working in the oppressive heat with only my shame to keep me company. I burned a pyre and whispered pain-filled words as the smoke reduced them to dust and ash, and Ilived.
Perhaps he played a part in the atrocities, but is it any better to stand by and do nothing? I watched the attack unfold without dirtying my hands or risking my neck.
Coward.
Aren’t I just as guilty as he is?
Thick emotion builds in my throat as I force another deep breath, closing my eyes until the crippling regret passes. I strip the rest of my sweaty clothes and dive under the surface of the pool. The pressure of the watersurrounds me, and my mood improves as I clean myself. Some of the heaviness washes away with the sweat and grime that coats my skin, and my stomach rumbles impatiently once I’m cool enough to recognize how hungry I am.
Visible steam rises off my body as I climb onto the rocks surrounding the small cove. It’s so hot that by the time I shake off the excess water and retrieve my clothes, I’m almost dry, and they slide on with little resistance. The walk back to the village only takes a couple of minutes, and the sounds of dinner carry out the open windows as I collect the two bowls sitting on the windowsill. Fresh nerves coil in my stomach as I realize Ronan has given me something I’ve wanted for weeks.
An excuse to talk to Nyx again.
Vines cover his cottage near the end of the path, hugging the wooden siding without harming it. White and yellow flowers bud randomly on the green, and a huff of a laugh leaves my nose at the sight. There are plenty of other vines growing along the village structures, and none of them have those blooms.
They’re saved only for him.
Inside his house. Where he currently is.
Oh, dear gods, he’s inside his house and I volunteered to talk to him. How does someone eventalkto a beautiful creature like him? What am I supposed to say?
Hey there, gorgeous. I hear you have crippling social anxiety and an aversion to people. Me too, baby. What’s that? Have I ever spent years with no company but my own? Why, yes. Yes, I have.
I’m so fucked.
Despite the very real urge to either vomit or run away, I steel my spine and force my feet to walk in a casual stroll, but then I trip on a rock and nearly drop the food. My cheeks flame as I glance around, but the only one nearby is Boomerang curled up in Nyx’s flower bed. She lifts her head at the noise and tilts it as I pass.
Even the damn dog is judging me.
Outside his door, I stare at my hands and realize I have no way to knock. “Uh… Nyx?” I call out, pleased when my voice is only a little strained. “It’s, um, it’s Reyes.” Infinite stillness comes from inside the cottage, but finally, the soft pad of feet approaches. The hinges creak as he pulls it open, and sunlight streams through the crack and turns the pale sage of his irises almost white.
Long, thin fingers clutch the door as his eyes bounce from my face to the bowls in my hand and back up again. “Hi,” he whispers.
“Hi,” I whisper in response, and a smile tugs on my lips as he tilts his head in the same inquisitive way as Boomerang. His waterfall of forest green hair cascades over his shoulder, and I realize I’m staring. With my mouth open. I snap it shut, then realize I have to open it to talk, so now I’m standing here imitating a fish.
Off to a great start.
“Hrnng,” I say, then clear my throat and force a smile that Ireallyhope doesn’t look as manic as it feels. “Um, what I mean to say is I, um, brought you food?” His brows flick together as his gaze darts again to the bowls, and I bark out a nervous laugh. “That sounded like a question, and it wasn’t. Can I start over?”
“Yes?” he says after a moment’s pause, and I take a deep, grounding breath.
“Hi. I brought you dinner. I’m eating alone tonight, too, and… yeah. Ronan asked me to deliver it to you. I wanted to. He asked me, but I… I wanted to come.”
He stares at the food for a long moment before accepting it with a nod. “Thank you.” Those giant eyes drift up to mine again, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth before he takes a deep breath. He’s nervous too, and the realization calms me. “You do not eat with them?”
