Page 76 of Inextricably Tied

“What do you mean?”

“We know he can pick things up from me, but my ability’s supposed to let me feel other people. I know he’s different, but I might be able to feel things from him in the same way. If someone touched him…”

Flint’s hands slow. She presses further.

“Every time he’s experienced heightened contact, so have I: the first night. During the fire. The extent of our connection is muddled. But if we tested it…”

Flint’s fingers curl gently around her throat, where Agony’s chain was all those weeks ago. Her eyes slip shut. Flint moves onto her chest.

“Do you ever wonder…”

Her eyes blink open under the spray, water trickling down her face. His hesitance tugs on her like a tide, the same thing that’s kept them both from truly talking to each other. But this time, Flint finishes what he started.

“Do you think you’re only attracted to us because of the connections?”

She takes the time to consider Flint’s question as he works suds down her stomach. “No,” she answers finally. “I was attracted to you before we touched. But I don’t think I would have done this with either of you if we weren’t linked.”

Flint kneels to work soap over her thighs. There’s that uncertainty again, but Harbinger cups his face until he lifts his eyes to her. Her thumbs smooth against his cheeks until he says what he’s thinking. “You were forced to connect with both of us. You didn’t have a choice. And I hate being something else inflicted on you.”

Sometimes she forgets what her ability means for other people. She’s the one that has to bear the connections, but Flint didn’t have a choice in sharing what he feels, either. He has to make a constant effort to keep a wall up between them, but that isn’t foolproof. He can never keep any of his emotions to himself. Can never struggle without Harbinger knowing it. Can never experience anything fully for fear it’ll overwhelm her.

“You didn’t have a choice, either.” Her fingers curl under the broad line of his jaw. “It was forced on all three of us.”

Flint moves down her calves, cleaning her feet one by one. Words weigh down her tongue before she says them, fast, as if she might not work up the courage again.

“Agony understands something about me. Some urge.”

Flint slows his motions. There’s a prickle of jealousy from him, but it merely surfaces above his own swirling confusion. “I’m glad he can do that for you,” Flint says finally.

“He does something for you, too.”

Flint watches her warily, rising back to his full height.

“Like you can loosen up,” Harbinger continues. “Let go. Try things you won’t with me.”

Flint’s mouth presses into a tight line. He’s tempted to deny it, to make some excuse for why it can’t happen. Too dangerous. Too reckless. I have other things to worry about.

“I can feel how you want him,” Harbinger murmurs. “You won’t let yourself. Do you want to know what I feel, when you’re fighting it back?” Agony doesn’t stir in the bedroom. “It’s like the start of a wildfire, spreading before you can get a handle on it. Before you can control it. Then you snuff it out just before it rages. Throw water until it’s out, cover it with sand, but the signs are still there. The scorch marks. The smoke. The hiss of what almost was.”

“That’s very poetic.” Flint turns his face up toward the water, but his body’s tense.

“You’ve always been so dedicated to me.” She takes his hands in hers. “Making sure I get what I want. But you can’t neglect yourself.” Her fingers wrap between his and squeeze. “I need you to speak up for what you need, even if it’s hard or uncomfortable. You can’t…I can’t do this if you’re suffering to make sure I’m happy.” Her voice catches in her throat, gaze some place along the tile. “I don’t want you to sacrifice anything for me, especially yourself.”

Flint traces the pad of his thumb under the hollow of her eye. “Ok.” She leans her face into his palm. There’s the rush of his emotions, swelling tightness in her chest. “I understand.”

“And I will be more careful,” she promises. “Start listening to your worries. Stop taking unnecessary risks.”

“Thank you.” Flint’s eyes find Agony. “Maybe you should meet him in the dream. See what else you can find.”

She presses her lips against Flint’s palm. “My connection with him does not mean I want you any less.”

They dry off after the shower. Dinner hasn’t passed yet, but both their bodies drag with exhaustion.

“Can we both sleep?” Harbinger crawls under the blankets at the far side of the bed. “One night. You can stay between us.”

Flint examines the space. Then he sighs, eyelids drooping, laying down to face Agony. Harbinger leans up to whisper in his ear. “I won’t tell if you cuddle him.”

Flint swats at her. “Shut up.” But there’s warmth in his smile again.