Page 23 of The Cannibal

Based on the leaves, it looked to be a Kuding tea. Known for its bitterness, but also wellness benefits.

I brought the steaming cup to my lips. The hot liquid rushed down my throat, the heat filling my mouth and slowly throughout my body. The bitterness was there, but it wasn’t an unpleasant kind. Not any more than the initial sting of alcohol or the heat of a pepper. Pleasant when the taste buds were built for it. Even my stomach eased with something to temporarily satiate it.

“This is my favorite tea spot. They have everything, even if it isn’t listed,” Phoebe said, her smile so wide when she saw I wasn’t disliking it. “We should come often.”

Just the thought of leaving the home again had me exhausted, and apparently my expression must have given that away.

“Or! Or we could buy some and bring it home.” Phoebe gestured for the host, already beginning to give him a list of teas and a couple more instructions I couldn’t hear.

It could have been the tea, but suddenly it was like my body wanted to shut down. Exhaustion was the word, but more intense than that. I wished to lie down and rot into the ground for a very, very long time.

“Are you well?” Phoebe touched my shoulder.

I nodded with a smile. “I am tired.”

“We can go home now, that’s fine.”

Home. That word again.

While it may be new to me, it was comforting knowing my dear friend was trying her best to make it my own.

The tea she purchased came in sophisticated wrappings, a little ribbon securing the box closed.

As we were on our way—and I might have been almost too exhausted to walk the entire way back—I felt lighter after our afternoon of excursions. It may not have been pleasant to get outside, but the effort was what made it feel productive. While I didn’t like to indulge in anything, never mind something selfish, I had to admit that her theory was working, and I was feeling much more grounded than before.

The sunlight was more pleasant, my lungs could breathe easier, and the walk home didn’t feel as labored. Phoebe talked, but I didn’t listen. Not because I didn’t want to, but because the daze was moving me along in my mind. There was so much to wrap my head around in so little time, but today made it feel like it was something attainable.

“You should try to feed,” Phoebe said as the door opened for us.

As we stepped inside, the metallic scent hit me harder than an inhale of cocaine. It nearly upset my stomach all over. “No,” I said quickly, “not tonight.”

Reluctantly, she let me go, even if she wasn’t finished fussing.

The journey up the stairs to the top floor felt nearly as long as the walk itself. My breathing was labored by the time I reached the top. I wandered like a ghost to my room, closing the door behind me just as quietly.

The sun was setting over the city, lavender and red striping the sky. Phantom personalities could be heard on the street, the light reflections flashing up into my window as carriages passed.

I lay back on the bed, my body sinking into the linens, freshly cleaned of months of dead flowers. My head by the several pillows piled neatly against the headboard.

There was still a hole in me, deep inside.

I glanced down at my ring, spinning it around my finger with my thumb.

“Come back,” I whispered, as if he could hear me from wherever he was.

With all that has happened, being betrothed nearly slipped through the cracks. What would happen when I saw him again? Did he miss me, even now? Did he forget about me for the six months I was guarded behind the doors? Would he be bored with me by the time he saw me again?

As much as I denied it these past few years, I’d missed him. The excitement.

The memories of his hands on mine in the snow, the way he looked up at me when he’d begged me to be his. The way his hands shook when the ring was slipped on my finger.

I splayed my fingers wide, staring at the glittering gold ring.

“Where are you now, Creature?” I whispered to myself.

I slept that night hoping, begging, I would wake to my most favorite bump in the night. To the Creature slinking back to me, to be held again, and to know I was alive.

After the day’s activities, much like the past half of a year, I slept like the dead once more.