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He holds the leaf out as he approaches and I know what to do now so I take it and slip it between my lips. I chew on it idly as he continues to come closer. He unfastens the jar and a pungent odor that I’ve smelled before fills the air. It reminds me of the paste that Kyle uses, which means it must be made by the Zmaj.
“I touch?” he asks, gesturing with the jar.
“What is it?” I ask.
He looks from it to me frowning. His mouth works as if he’s trying to find or form the words and god help me I can’t help but notice his lips. Which makes me immediately wonder what they will taste like. Stop. Just stop Kai.
“Heal,” he says, shrugging.
“I have a doctor,” I say, unsure if this is the same stuff or what it is at all.
“Yes, yes, human,” he says. “This… Tajss. Help.”
He’s so eager, so insistent that I feel bad denying him. I was already so mean to him that I have no right to keep being that way. I shrug and nod my approval.
Each move he makes is slow and deliberate. I get the idea it would be the same way he would handle a skittish animal. As soon as I think that I chuckle and he stops with his fingers dipped into the jar.
“Nothing,” I mutter, but then I chuckle again at the absolute absurdity of all of this. He’s made a picnic replete with special medicines for my scars. What is it he thinks he’s doing? Who does he think I am? “Sorry.”
“Okay? This?” he gestures with his two fingers he just dipped. They have a thick, viscous goop on them. It looks darker than what Kyle has used, so I’m not sure it’s the same.
“Uh, sure,” I say, pushing past my hesitation.
It looks like a salve, how bad can that be? Once again his hand drifts closer. I watch its approach through the protective curtain of my hair. His other hand comes into view and gently sweeps my hair to one side. I flinch. It’s not a conscious action but one bred from long experience. An attempt to brace myself for the reaction that will surely follow. It always has.
But he doesn’t react, at least negatively. He leans in a little closer, a slight frown as he purses his lips then he touches my scars for a second time. The goop spreads on cool. He spreads it down the length of the side of my face, dipping his fingers into the jar and scooping out another generous helping and repeating.
The longer the goop is on my face the cooler it grows until that side of my face is numb. Not painfully so, actually it’s a relief. For the first time since the accident I’m not constantly aware of the pain and discomfort. It’s better than the stuff Kyle has used.
“Beautiful,” he whispers but I surely didn’t hear that right.
“Huh?”
He straightens, studying the side of my face then nodding with satisfaction. He puts the seal back on the jar and crouches to clean his fingers on the edge of the blanket.
“Beautiful,” he says, looking up at me now. “You.”
Cursed butterflies dance in my stomach. I don’t want them because I can’t open myself up to what they would lead to. He’s either playing with me or being kind. I assume he’s being kind because he’s never been anything else so I give him that benefit of the doubt but I do shake my head.
“No,” I whisper. “No more.”
He frowns so deeply that it pulls his horns down. I like the way his brow furrows. He snorts, making his nostrils flare and I’m pretty sure I see a puff of smoke but that’s it. He stands up and makes a sweeping gesture towards the blanket.
“Food?” Before I can say anything my belly answers for me with a loud grumble. His grin widens across his face. “Yes. Yes, good.”
He goes back to the basket and pulls out wrapped pieces of leather, arranging them in a semi-circle around himself. Feeling awkward I watch him work for a moment then move to the middle of the blanket and sit cross-legged.
There must be a dozen packages when he finishes removing them all. I have no idea what all they contain but it has to be a lot. I can’t believe he made this much effort for me. Is this more than kindness? Even if it is, why is he being so kind to me?
He is giving so much careful attention to the packages. Arranging each one until it is, apparently, just so. When he finishes moving and arranging he looks them all over then gives a self-satisfied nod.
“Good,” he says, looking over to me with a big smile. “You, good?”
“Yes,” I nod.
And I am. The numbness is pleasing in a strange way. My face feels a lot less stiff than it normally does and the ache is only a memory for the moment. He grumbles as he nods then carefully unwraps the first leather bound package. As he unfolds the corners, slices of what look like fruit lay revealed. The fruit looks similar to an orange, the texture, the skin, and all give it the right look but it's blue in color. He cups his hands under the leather to pick it up then offers me a piece.
It smells incredible. Pungent, sweet, and yet the odor has a hint of sour to it. I pick a small slice and pop it into my mouth. The flavor is delicious and I make tiny sounds of pleasure as I chew it. The juice of it fills my mouth until all I can do is swallow as fast as possible.
