Page 19 of Molt

“Fuck you.”

My body reacts to the words.

Pathetic.

Centuries later and she can still make my blood move with two syllables.

I turn away. “Eventually.”

Silence.

Shit.

I didn’t mean to say it.

“Excuse me?” She growls, snapping her hands to her hips.

“Nothing.” I say trying to hide the smile peeling at my upper lip. God I missed her fire.

“Did you just say eventually?” She asks with narrowed eyes.

“No.” I lie again.

“You absolutely fucking did.”

“Must’ve been the blood loss.” I say.

I love arguing with her. She makes it so fucking easy.

She stares at me. Then, she laughs. A real laugh. Tiny and startled.

But…beautiful.

My chest tightens.

No. No.

I hate the sound. I have to.

I hate her laugh. I hate her mouth. I hate the little crease beside her nose when she’s trying not to smile. I hate the fact that she sleeps with one foot outside the blanket because she gets too warm. I hate that she drinks coffee before brushing her teeth. I hate that she buys peaches and forgets about them until they’re soft. I hate that she reads the last sentence of books first. I hate that she cries when she’s angry but almost never when she’s sad.

I hate Lenora. I hate Lenora. I hate Lenora.

My chest aches.

Fuck.

She notices me staring. “What?”

“Nothing.” I shake my head.

“You do that a lot.” She huffs.

“What?” I say tilting my head.

“Look at me like that.”

“Like what?”