Starcrossed

Settling Silence

We sit in silence around the smoldering fire. Another night has passed, but at least the dim glow of morning reaches this place. The gentle, soft blue light is a stark contrast to the darkness that hides us from the dangers of the Murkwood labyrinth.

Ace stirs the pot of leftover medicinal soup. It's the only food we have at the moment, and I get the feeling he's still worried that my illness will return. His shirt strains against his back muscles as he leans in. Hunger grips me, my fingernails digging in my palms as I curl them into tight fists in my lap.

He peers over at me through the stream and half-hooded eyes. It's not a look I've seen before, but it stirs the gnawing hunger in my stomach. His gaze is a physical thing, reaching out and touching me. The tiny hairs on the back of my neck rise with anticipation; mouth going dry. A strange creature has taken up residence in my ribs, near my heart. It rattles around—fluttering with enthusiasm wherever Ace's dark gaze settles on me.

Neither of us has said much since the reading of Liam's letter. We went to sleep in silence, his soft breathing a gentle melody that lulled me back into a fitful rest. I woke several times to the ghost of blazing red hair and gentle whispers calling my name. 

"Hungry?"

I swallow then nod.

This tension between us is new, nothing like what was between us before. That tension was easy to understand. There are secrets, or there were—but not on my end any longer. He knows what I know. I want to blame the fever for my reckless decision to let him read Liam's last words to me. 

But the truth—I didn't want to be alone with his last words. The weight of them or what he might say, I couldn't find the strength in myself to bear it alone. Now, I'm not sure what to say or where to begin to unpack everything. We do need to talk about it, though. Or at the very least, I need to make sure none of what was revealed goes further than us.

Ace spoons me some soup into a leaky, hand woven bowl. It's clearly something he crafted with materials found in the Murkwood. I take it with a small grunt and begin to drink, ignoring the bitter medicinal taste, preferring to focus on the warmth that settles in my bones.

"We should get moving again after we're done eating," Ace says while dishing himself some soup.

I peer over the edge of my bowl, finishing up what's left. 

"That's a good idea. Do you know the way?"

The corners of his mouth turn down at my question. Maybe he was hoping that I forgot about our little game of left or right—too bad for him that I didn't. His eyes flit to the opening of the tree hollow, sipping down his own soup.

"I'm going to take your silence as a confirmation of my suspicions."

I sit my bowl down on the ground beside me and stretch my arm over my head, craning my neck and arching my back to loosen my stiff muscles.

"What suspicions are those?"

I rise up from the ground, dusting myself off. Not that it matters. These clothes smell; I'm covered in sweat and dirt—but I can't stop the habits that have been ingrained into me.

"You don't have any idea how to get through the Murkwood, despite what you said."

"I got us here alive didn't I?"

The usual teasing tone has returned to Ace's voice.

"I'm not questioning that you know how to survive in Murkwood. I'm saying you don't know how to get through it." 

Our eyes meet across the distance and the creature in my ribs takes flight. My muscles tense and my fingers tremble. His dark gaze is cold and predatory, something that makes the beast in me alert and wary. Ace sets his bowl down, throwing an arm across his knee. The position says he's at ease but I know it's a facade. I know how fast and silent he can move.