A Court of Shadows and Scars

• Chapter Twenty •

⁌ 𝑨 𝒁 𝑹 𝑰 𝑬 𝑳 ⁍

The night casted a shadow in my room—dawn not too far away as sleep continued to escape me in the long hours of the night. The moon shined directly into my room through the wide open windows—it's light full among the stars that sparkled into the twilight shadow.

The shadows fell asleep long before the the moon reached her apex in the sky—they swirled the across the floorboards in silent sleeping circles while I, the night owl, stared out to the expanse of mountain tops and stars. Restless as always with a bottle of wine at my desk, opened and already halfway empty.

Though I wasn't in the least bit drunk—not how I wanted to be anyways. I was instead fully sober as my wounds screamed with aching pain. I had been perched on the cushioned padded seat of my bedroom window, just gazing, dreaming really.

The stars—they mocked me now. The moon, her illuminance a subtle pain to my eyes with her blinding glow. All of which now paled to the elegance that was her. No. Nothing compared to that star freckled-skin. The skin that illuminated with constellations. The same skin that glowed with joy and beauty. Then her hair—like a long tail of phoenix flame that burned a brighter light than any star, any sun. Her laugh was a pure melody that sung to the depths of my soul, quelling any shadow or nightmare—curing any uneasiness that haunted my being on the long nights alone with only the whisper of the quelling shadows to keep me company.

I took another drink, hoping the burn of something strong could make me feel something other than this pain—that this heartache that filled me deeply.

Her face—I remembered it. Fallen with tears—tears I hadn't wanted to see. When she cried it was like the sea and streams answered her calls, thrashing wildly in raging waves and rising storms just to soothe her soul; to answer it.

I wondered if she knew of the storm that thundered on and on as those tears fell—tears that fell for me. Tears that fell because of me.

The door creaked open in the silence—the shadows did not stir, not in the least. I turned my head—her scent hitting me first. That sweet scent of that lingered like fresh vanilla and sandalwood, then something else. Something far more sweet.

I licked my lips with anticipation, putting the bottle down before ascending from my seat. My wounds shouted at me to sit my ass down and I winced from the pain and she noticed. Her teal eyes of oceans and meadows alerted, her face fell with concern as she placed her hand over the bandages of my chest. Gently she pushed me down to the window seat, her hand firm on my shoulder as she grazed lightly above the covered stitches.

"Don't move too much," her voice sounded broken—like her cries made her beautiful melody hoarse with exhaustion.

I could only watch, too afraid to talk, to afraid speak her name even as she lowered herself to my lap, being careful not to hurt me but I didn't care. Her skin atop mine was a welcomed heat. To even be like this, so close, so painstakingly near—I had to control myself to not throw her to the floor and ravage her with my mouth and my mouth alone.

Her arms lay limp on my shoulders, her forehead hung low, pressed up against mine as I slouched slightly to meet her height.

"You're so stupid," she sniffled, her fingers reaching towards my cheeks, cupping them firmly with a trembling grip, "stupid, idiotic, hotheaded," she listed in quiet fury as her hands pulled my face closer until I caught glimpses of the fresh tears of liquid silver running down her pale star-speckled cheeks. Down to the curve of her chin til they fell off the edge, seeping into my cotton white shirt.