Blood Will Tell

VIII

Edin and Rowan exchanged looks. "I guess we're officially guardians now, huh?" the latter said.

Edin nodded while crossing his arms. "I guess."

He reached for the nearest chair and took a seat. Rowan sat next to him.

"Hey so, I'm sorry if I bothered you on the way here," Rowan said. "It's just that I find you really interesting and I tend to talk a lot."

"It's fine." It was not.

Rowan leaned forward in his seat. His curious gaze traced Edin's slender arms, and then he furrowed his brows. "What's that?"

"What's what?"

"Your inner forearm." Rowan extended his left arm and traced a line across its inner surface. "Did you get into an accident lately?"

"Oh, this." Edin glanced at his inner left forearm. A dark purplish scar cut straight across his porcelain skin. "I didn't get into an accident. It's always been there."

"Is it a birthmark?"

"I don't think so. Arden said it's an old scar, but I don't remember how I got it."

"Is that why you were wearing long sleeves earlier?"

"Uh, partly."

Rowan gazed longer at the mark on his partner's arm. "How old d'you think it is?"

"I don't know."

And their conversation ended there. Rowan pushed against the floor and rolled across the room, resting in front of one of the windows. Edin turned his head and watched the screen. There was no sign of movement. Not even a gust of wind. Edin covered his mouth and yawned. He glimpsed his watch. It was only a quarter past nine in the morning.

Rowan swiveled in his seat, head leaning far back, arms dangling from the armrests. He glanced out the window. There was nothing beyond the glass pane other than dull stretches of sand. Rowan spun in his chair once more.

"D'you see anything on the screens?" Rowan asked.

Edin's eyes scanned the monitors. "I just see sand."

"Nothing interesting?"

"Nope."

Rowan let out a groan. "I hope something shows up soon. I'm getting bored."

"It's only been a minute since Norman left."

"A minute feels long when you've got nothing to do." Rowan got up from his seat. "I'll keep a lookout from upstairs. I think there's a better view up there."

He stood up, tramped across the room, and ascended the stairwell to the second floor. Edin did not mind. In fact, he hoped that Rowan would not descend anytime soon—he was in no mood for a conversation, one-sided or not.

***

The clock struck twelve. Edin got out of his seat and clutched his nearly empty stomach. He rose from his chair and sought a midday meal. He then halted.

He had forgotten to prepare his lunch.

Edin cursed himself. He was so accustomed to having his meals prepared for him that he had forgotten to make his own when he had to. He had seen Arden preparing her lunches the night before work and storing them inside the refrigerator. That way, she would only have to take them out in the morning and reheat them in the middle of the day. He should have done the same. Edin shook his head and ambled towards the stairwell. He hoped there was something inside the pantry that he could eat.