Dara, Page, and the Secrets of the Multiverse

▷ 17.3

Page picked at the grass by her hands, tearing the blades from the root network going deeper than she cared to find out. Her white pencil skirt was splattered with mud from the park, and her hair was probably a moth's nest. Still, she got Dara to calm down and speak legible sentences after giving him the biggest fright of his life.

They sat behind the public wash area, leaning their backs against the cold slab of stone. Dara, still sopping wet, made for a sad lump beside her. She ran a hand down her matted hair, frowning at the snags and tangles. She swallowed that annoyance away, in fear of summoning the butterflies again. Dara would probably go with the angels once that happened.

Dara cleared his throat, getting Page's attention. "I'm...sorry for how I acted earlier," he said. "I was just...spooked."

"You're more than spooked," Page corrected, but waved a hand in the air. "I don't like to pry, but the best I can say is that we are entitled to our fears. Yours are butterflies, and mine is...getting disinherited by my parents."

Dara stuck a lip out. With his hair dripping wet, he might as well pose for a magazine cover and the pictures would still come out perfect. "I also don't mean to pry," he said. "But does it have to do with...the butterfly thing?"

She could have snapped at him about asking something closer to her personal life. Because of her curse, she resolved to never get close enough with anyone to reach this secret-telling level. But, she owed Dara a fraction of her inheritance for what went down this afternoon, so she shrugged and rested her head against the stone slab. The cold dug into her scalp, but it was welcome.

"My parents think I'm deliberately causing a scene during the dates they sent me to," Page said. "But really, it was the men overreacting and being drama queens. Almost everyone called me all sorts of names, claiming I was a spawn of the devil at one point."

Dara whistled. "That's harsh."

"I've learned to deal with it," she replied, trying to pass it off as a nonchalant remark. She needed him to think that after all her life of dealing with the butterflies, she had gotten used to how people might react and how they might brand her as. In reality, though, the words still stung, and she has lived her life in a different sort of anxiety and fear.

So, for the first time in her life, she allowed herself to be a little more honest. "I envy you though," she said, glancing at Dara whose gaze she never felt to have strayed away from her. "At least, you can express your fear and not think about what other people might think of you."

"In an ideal world, maybe," Dara answered, a soft smile curling on his lips. "A grown man being scared of butterflies was hardly an achievement."

"I suppose not." She stretched her legs over the grass, her white kitten heels all messed up now. "I'm sorry about earlier. I didn't know it's your phobia."

Dara drew his knee up, propping his arm on it. Droplets of water dripped from his sleeve. Wasn't he cold? Didn't he want to change his clothes? "Not exactly the type of information you'd find on the internet," he said. "And don't worry about it. I'd have to thank you as well."

She knitted her eyebrows. "What for?"

His shoulders rose and eased, hands turning up to the sky in a small wave. "For not leaving me on my own, for bringing me out of the cafe when you saw the phones pointing at me, and...well, for dousing me with water." A chuckle shook his torso. "I've never had a date who did that."

"Let me guess." Page tilted her head at him. "Parents hounding you as well?"

"You know how our families work," he answered.

She snorted. "What can I say?" she said. "I'm quite the observer."

A comfortable and companionate silence settled between them. Page trained her eyes on the passing pedestrians, all too absorbed in their own worlds to notice two prospective heirs of some of the largest conglomerates sitting on their asses on the grass, both muddied and haggard. For a moment, she forgot she was that kind of person as well. Everything moved at their own pace, and if she looked—really looked—she'd find that no one cared about her much less about what she was or what curse she dealt with. She was just a normal girl in a fast-paced world, and none of the things her previous dates threw her way affected her public image. So, why should she let those words affect her?

She glanced at Dara, sitting beside her and not really bothered by the fact that multiple people saw him lose his marbles over a small, harmless creature. Or maybe it bothered him, but he chose to let it go. If people talked, they would. He had the money to silence them in one fell swoop, anyway. It was such airiness that she aimed to adopt one of these days.

The grass rustled underneath him as he turned to her after a moment. "How did it start?" he asked. It was the first time someone bothered asking that question, and it came from someone who, earlier, was knocking her against tables and floors in fear of what it entailed. "I mean...not to make you feel worse or something. Just...really curious."

"I'm fine. Don't worry," she answered. Then, she tapped her chin, glancing at the bright blue sky in thought. The clouds strolled by, not giving a care about what happened and what would happen below them. "I was five when I discovered I could charm butterflies and play with them. Sometimes, I would drag my friends into the garden and let them witness it. Most of the time, they can cheer me up when I'm feeling down. They celebrate when I'm happy, and when I'm in love..."

Her voice died down, knowing full well she just admitted something she wouldn't to a stranger she met a few hours ago.

"They meet the person so they can love them too," Dara finished for her.

Page whirled to him, shock stilling her into looking straight into his eyes. They were in such a lovely shade, after all. "Yeah..." she exhaled in a slow breath. "How did you know?"

At that, Dara smiled. "Like you," he said with a wink. "I'm quite the observer."