Page 136 of Echoes of the Banshee

“Go ahead,” he answers.

So I do. It feels good to rinse it all off. To shed the night like old skin. But once the fake injuries are gone, I remember the real one on my thigh. I dry off and wrap myself in a towel, then I crack open the door.

His eyes find me instantly. I lift the towel slightly, revealing the claw marks. “A little help?”

He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing as his eyes travel down my body. Then he stands, walks over, and kneels in front of me. His hand comes to rest gently on my thigh, his other hand snaking around to hold the back of it. The warmth of it. The focus. It’s more than just healing. It feels very intimate.

No, it is intimate.

“All good.” His voice is tight with control.

I turn and slip back into the bathroom to get dressed. His clothes are soft and oversized, carrying his scent, and with it, a strange, unexpected calm. I know this is all it can ever be between us. But that touch… I don’t remember ever being touched like that.

When I return, the lights are dimmed and the TV hums with the opening credits of some old fantasy movie. Benson and him are already sitting on the bed, and I crawl in between them. We all lean against the wall, sharing pizza and silence. With every bite, every breath, the noise of the world fades.

Someone shakes my shoulder.

I feel Zair close behind me, his arm draped lazily over me. His warm scent pulling me back under. Benson on my other side, my hand resting on his bicep.

“Thea,” Benson says, and I peek my eyes open, his face inches from mine.

“Hi,” I whisper.

“It’s late, do you want me to walk you home?”

I yawn, then shake my head, snuggling between them.

“It’s alright, go back to sleep.”

He swallows as my eyes fall closed. His fingers tuck my hair behind my ear.

“Alright, goodnight.”

Zair

Sweaty, Victorious, Yours

Iwake up to the feel of her against me.

She’s curled into my side, one hand fisted loosely in the fabric of my shirt, her breath warm against my chest. For a moment, I don’t move. The room is dim and still. Outside, the sky’s just starting to pale with the slow approach of morning.

I’ve never felt more serene.

Thea shifts in her sleep, nuzzles closer, and exhales. It’s soft. Trusting.

In my chest, something I don’t have words for settles.

She didn’t push me away. She let herself fall asleep here. Stayed. Curled up next to me like this is normal, like I’m safe.

It feels… right.

I open my eyes and notice Benson is pushed right up against her from behind. I’m terrified that she’ll freak out when she realizes she’s here, asleep between us. I shake him and he wakes, eyes meeting mine for a second in a way that makes the blood flow even more uncomfortable. Slowly, we disentangle ourselves from her. She stirs and looks up at me with bleary eyes and gives me a soft smile that makes my day, maybe my week, probably my month.

“I should head back,” she murmurs, voice still heavy with sleep.

“Take the hoodie,” I say, gesturing to the chair. “It’s cold out.”

She hesitates for a second but doesn’t argue. Just nods, stands, and pulls on the shirt and her boots. Benson shuffles out behind her, I hear him say goodbye and then go into his room.