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Because I said so.
And…I’d forgotten…I’d forgotten so many of those sorts of things.
Once, my life was a collection of dreams and stories. Paintings made out of thoughts.
All up until the point when I grew up. Learned to stop. Learned to focus on my studies. Learned what things the world valued, and what things were useless.
Here, in this kitchen with a carrot guillotine on the counter behind me, something is different.
“Kassandra.”
I lift my face, finding Pollux, as the horrible sensation of a tear slips down my cheek.
“I…”
He stands, looming, and cuts his thumb beneath my eye. “Dearest, what’s wrong?”
Regaining my senses, I push my seat back, reach for Chai in Pollux’s other hand, and pull the kitten against my chest. “I’m sorry. I don’t… I’m fine. I think I need to go.” My mouth feels too dry. Like it’s full of sand. “Th…e food was amazing. I’ll see you tomorrow, Meda. Sorry.”
Sorry. I’m so sorry.
I run.
But even as I make it all the way back to the school and my parked car…I don’t know what I’m running from.
Chapter 7
~~~~~~~~~~~~
adds corn starch to the plot
“Let me see if I understand…” Alexios began, seated upon Pollux’s experimentation table in his lab. The hard metal slab—complete with numerous restraints—worked as a centerpiece in the single, large basement room. Shelves upon shelves of unmentionables crowded every wall, except in the corner where Pollux’s computer sat, which boasted only elevated shelves crowded with books.
“I’d rather you not,” Pollux grumbled as he carefully deposited the specks of gold dust—Kassandra’s tear—onto a slide.
Alexios fit his hand against his chest. “Alexios can’t have her soul, but Pollux can experiment on her tears?”
“I’m not experimenting. I’m examining. There’s a difference.”
“The difference is I’m feeling like the victim of a hate crime.”
“This is not even remotely within the realm of what a hate crime is, and I dislike that your Alana-inspired internet humor is making light of a subject I have seen intimately on numerous occasions. Why are you even down here?” Pollux glared over his shoulder at the man.
Alexios brightened while toying with his single, long, dark braid. “To bully you, of course. What is your sweet soulmate? Something made of hopes and dreams and love? The fact her presence cancels the effects yours has on more innocent beings is very amusing.”
Pollux rolled his eyes. “I’d rather not say.”
“I promise not to tell Cael or Alana or anyone else in this domain without your express permission.”
Pollux cast a look at the yamachichi—a devourer of emotion, energy, life. At their core, the yamachichi were thieves. The only thing setting Alexios apart from others of his kind was the fact he chose to steal negativity, sparing people from despair.
His constitution could handle the weight where humans might crumble beneath it.
His constitution could handle a lot.
Pollux was uncertain if he wanted it to handle his secrets.
“Do you not trust me?” Alexios asked.
