placed the plate of food and an eating utensil in front of her before starting to eat my own. Her hand quivered as she reached over and took hold of the utensil, her eyes flickering from my face to my hands to the plate in front of her and the spoon in my hand. She hesitantly scooped up some food and brought it to her lips. With a final flicker of uncertainty, she ate agonizingly slow.
I sat across from her, observing as she watched me cautiously, as if she wasn’t sure of anything. As I continued to watch her, I finally realized that the only thing she could possibly remember was me yelling at her before she fainted.
I, in my anger, completely dismissed her confusion and fear, ignoring her struggle to try to regain the control of her body and environment. I raked a hand through my hair as I let out a deep sigh.
I failed. First moment with her, my chance to show her I am different from others and yet, I destroyed it in a second. I looked at her once more, trying to find the words to say to be able to fix my mistake. She met my eyes and I could see them darken with confusion.
“I-I’m sorry,” I spoke softly, my voice losing its authorial edge, “I was wrong in forcing you to do anything without giving you a reason to trust me.”
I was looking at the table, not brave enough to look into her eyes, my heart sinking strangely. I heard her cough and clear her throat before I heard her soft voice say, “Mirage.”
I looked at her, confused, “What?”
“My name is Mirage.”
Her voice was sweet and melodic, but it broke in certain words before shifting back. I smiled at her, watching as she searched my eyes before a whisper of a smile graced her lips.
“I am called Aqulune,” I told her, to which she nodded softly as if she was debating something.
“You found me in the alleyway, did you not?”
“Aye,” I nodded, “I did.”
“Is it not your job to turn in run-aways?”
“Aye. It is.”
“Is this your home?”
“Aye.”
“Why did you bring me here, to your home, against your duties as a Patroller?”
I had to swallow a lump in my throat. I knew it was leading towards that topic, but alas, I had no clue as to why I did so myself. I could’ve lied to her, told her hat bringing her here was my duty, but I found myself completely incapable of lying in her warm, innocent, and honest gaze.
“I don’t know,” I whispered to her, “I don’t know.”
She nodded, her eyes drifting down before curving back up to meet mine. I could see resistance and determination shining within them.
“For how long?”
That question took me by surprise. I had not thought about it. I believe she saw the shock on my face because, before I knew it, she stood and started to move towards the door. I rushed over, closing the door that she had started to open. I heard her breathing hitch and as she slowly turned towards me, I noticed the same fear once again in her eyes. I could not find the right words, feeling as if no matter what I say, she would leave.
“Please, don’t go,” I whispered to her, watching as her eyes filled with tears, “Please don’t leave me.”
“Why?” she whispered back, her voice quivering with some unnamed emotion, “Why do you want me to stay?”
“Because you make me feel something strange, that which I have never felt before.”
She searched my eyes once more, as if wondering if I was telling the truth. For a moment, as we stood there close together, I could have sworn that she felt the same way. I moved closer, keeping my eyes on hers as I inched my lips to her rosy ones. She broke the intensity we had, by turning her head to the side and pulling her body closer to the door. I stepped back, guiding her to the bedroom.
“This house only has one bed for now,” I explained to her, “So we will have to share.”
I noticed her hesitation to join me in the bed before she lifted her head bravely and sat down. She fell into slumber on the far side of the bed and I, after hours of just watching her sleep, succumbed to the effects on the opposite side.
Chapter 3
I woke with the light of the sun filtering through the curtains to strike my face. As I start to regain my memories from last night, I become completely aware of a comforting warmth on my chest, her hand rested on my stomach, her body was pressed to my right side, and her legs were tangled up with mine.
I looked beside us to see who moved during the night and found that we were both the culprits. Our bodies were in the exact center of the bed, the cover draped over us carelessly. Despite myself, I smiled and as she moved closer with a tired sigh, I felt a strange rush of electricity course through my veins to pool at my groin.
I knew I should move before she wakes and gets frightened again, so with a sigh and a soft kiss onto the top of her raven black hair, I stood. I fixed the covers around her and with a yawn, I stepped into the kitchen to prepare breakfast.
Once I had the food cooked and set on the table, I heard the familiar creak of the mattress and in half a minute later, I saw her exit the bedroom. Her hair was spilled over her shoulders, framing her face and bringing out the intensity of her diamond blue eyes. Looking at her took my breath away, her lazy smile made my heart pound forcefully against my chest.
“Good morrow, Aqulune,” she smiled, captivating me, “How was your night?”
I was going to answer her, but something caught my eyes. Her shirt was baggy and it bared one of her shoulders. Carved deep into her skin was a mark I am very familiar with. Carved into her skin was Rasputin’s mark. I felt a strange surge of jealousy course through my body along with a strong disdain towards my childhood friend. My silence caused her to look up from her plate of food and regard me with a confused and concerned look on her face.
“Did I say something wrong?” she asked softly.
My brain yanked itself out of its reverie with a quick, “No, you did not, I was simply lost in thought.”
She nodded before turning back to the plate.
“My night was tranquil,” I told her, smiling when she looked at me, “How was yours?”
Her cheeks turned a beautiful pink complexion as she answered, “Impeccably calm.”
I smiled at her, watching her smile back before we both turned to our plates. After breakfast, I decided that reading would be an exemplary way of passing the time.
Books are a valuable yet limited resource, only available to Scholars. However, they have been and still are my favorite (and only) pastime in this society. There are times when I get so deeply absorbed in a good plot, that I lose track of time until I am staring at pages in the dark.
After a few pages in silence, I glance at her, checking to see if she is okay and I find her staring, not at me but, behind
