Page 2 of Donovan
He met my gaze, unflinching, then shrugged. “I saw you sitting here alone. You looked… I dunno, lonely.”
I stared at him.
Lonely?
I should have laughed. I should have told him to get lost. Instead, a sharp coil of something hot and defensive twisted in my chest.
“I don’t need company,” I said, voice flat.
Donovan nodded, then gestured toward the tree. “Yeah. Figured as much. That’s why I climbed up there instead.”
I blinked. “You what?” I asked.
He gestured toward a thick, low-hanging branch, as if that explained everything.
My patience snapped. I grabbed his arm, none too gently. “Were you spying on me?”
“No.” He wriggled in my grip, not exactly struggling but not backing down either. “I just stayed. You didn’t look like you wanted anyone to talk to you, so I figured I’d, y’know… watch instead.”
My fingers tightened around his arm. “That’s not any better.”
Donovan’s mouth twitched. “I know.”
Something about his tone made me want to shake him.
Instead, I let go, stepping back. He rubbed his wrist, not like it hurt, more like he was acknowledging the moment.
I exhaled sharply, running a hand through my hair. “You’re a little weird, you know that?”
That would make him go away, I thought in satisfaction.
Instead of looking insulted, Donovan grinned. “Asher and Finn say that all the time.”
There was something almost easy about the way he said it, like he wasn’t afraid of being called strange, like it didn’t matter to him.
Like he already knew who he was and didn’t care if other people understood it.
Something about that made my chest ache.
I stared at him, trying to find the words to make him leave, to tell him that I wanted to be alone, that I didn’t need some kid watching over me like a stray dog looking for scraps of companionship.
But the truth was, I didn’t have the energy to fight him on it.
I sighed, dragging a hand down my face. “Fine. Stay if you want.”
Donovan brightened, like I’d just handed him some grand invitation instead of the reluctant half-grumble that it was.
But he didn’t gloat or push his luck. He just plopped down beside me, settling onto the cold, uneven ground as if he belonged there.
As if this, sitting in a graveyard in the dead of night, next to someone he barely knew, was the most natural thing in the world.
We sat in silence for a while.
The wind rustled through the trees, carrying the faint scent of damp earth and fallen leaves. Somewhere in the distance, the faint sound of voices drifted from Guild Headquarters.
I glanced at Donovan out of the corner of my eye. He was quiet, arms draped over his knees, gaze distant. Not pushing, not trying to make conversation. Just there.
And somehow, his presence made the crushing emptiness a little more bearable.
