Page 84 of A Whisper of Cinders

She gives me a quick kiss on my cheek and walks past the siblings that are still standing awkwardly in the entrance. I was so mad, furious even, at both of them. For the lies, for grieving my best friend who is very much alive. But after everything I’ve heard, I can’t possibly stay mad any longer. It would be unfair to remain mad about something they had no control over.

“You can come in, you know, if you want to.”

They finally look up, a pair of green and blue eyes locking into mine, both worried, yet relieved at the same time. Amira is the first to take a few steps forward.

“You aren’t angry with me?”

“I was. You really hurt me, Ami.” She looks away, unable to meet my gaze. “But,” her eyes slowly move to mine, a little bit of hope shining through them. “I understand you had no choice, I know your reasons now. And although everything that happened is a little fucked up, I am so glad you’re not dead. I thought I had lost you forever.” My voice cracks and I swallow hard. “Do you know how wrong everything felt without you?”

She closes the distance between us, climbs on the bed and pulls me into a tight hug. I never really noticed her scent before, but it reminds me of her brother, just a little more floral.

“I am so, so sorry,” she murmurs against my shoulder. “I am here now and I’m not going anywhere. I will never abandon you again.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, holding back the tears and pull her even closer. A part of me was broken, a piece of my soul ripped out of me. But holding that piece in my arms is slowly mending it.

She pulls back a little and looks me in the eyes. My sight trembles and for a second, I see what she really looks like. I’m not surprised to see she looks radiant. She already did without magic.

“Don’t be too hard on my brother, he was suffering just as much as I was.” She glances back at him, still standing in the opening, staring at his feet. “He is kind and caring, and I don’t know what is going on between you two, but the way he feels about you is genuine. None of that was an act.”

She gives my hand a final squeeze and drops a kiss on my forehead, before she hops off the bed. “I’ll go find some food, you must be starving.”

She walks past her brother — who finally looks up — and gives me a wink. What is that supposed to mean? Even now my cheeks burn. Of course they do.

Because, even though he hurt me, my heart still skips a beat and being in the same room with barely any clothes on ignites a burning desire deep within me.

I scrape my throat, the sound too loud in the silence of my room. “You may enter.” He would stand there all night if I wouldn’t invite him in, gallantry is part of who he is.

As if in slow motion, Aramis moves towards me and sits down on the chair next to my bed. His strong forearms rest on his knees, his head hangs low between his firm shoulders. He is burdened by what he had to do, lie to me, twist the truth, comfort me about something that didn’t really happen.

Without giving it a second thought, I reach for his head, letting the silky waves glide between my fingers. I don’t remember how many times I’ve daydreamed about doing this. He holds completely still, as if breathing would scare me away. Not in a million years.

I trail a path from the top of his head, along his temples and halt at his cheek. The skin is a bit rougher there due to a stubble I cannot see. I feel the muscle in his cheek pop, my scarred fingers a stark contrast against his walnut skin tone.

Who would’ve thought a man would let me touch him like this? And that I would be the one to reach out first. But he has touched my heart in a way I can’t fully comprehend myself.

I rest my palm against his check and gently guide his face up so I can look into his eyes. My mind lets me see what he truly looks like for a split second, the defined cheekbones, the tip of a pointed ear poking through blond waves, eyes the colour of a glowy rainforest.

He is breathtaking.

And he is breaking right in front of me.

“Talk to me,” I whisper.

He shuts his eyes. “I don’t know how.”

I reach for him before he can slip away any further. My fingers find his arm, his skin warm, yet he shivers at my touch. “I know you didn’t want to do this, Aramis. Lie to me, hurt me. I understand why you had to.”

He sighs. “That doesn’t make it right.”

“No,” I murmur, my grip tightening, willing him to listen. “But you had no other choice and I know you care for me and hurting me is the last thing you want to do.”

I hope I’m right about my feeling. And when he finally looks at me, it’s clearly written there. But also sorrow, the trembling edges of hope, and maybe longing.

There are so many things I want to say to him, but I assume he can all see it in my eyes as he finally leans in, forearms braced on my bed, his scent nearly intoxicating when he is this close.

“Are you alright?”

“I think I am? I awake from a deep slumber and everything has changed, the world looks different yet not. I apparently have powers and it turns out I’m fae, whatever that means. My mind is still processing it all, but it somehow makes sense too, you know? It feels right.”