Kiss Me Deadly

Chapter Seven

Archer opens the door to a room similar to mine, only full of personal touches. Momentos of Archer's life are scattered haphazardly around the room, giving it a real lived-in feel. It's rather unlike my own room, which continues to be sterile and un-personalized. It's not a home, not like this. I gaze longingly from blue wall to blue wall, admiring the pictures and other objects that just scream Archer.

Archer sets me down on his bed, ignoring my exasperated look, and quickly disappears into the bathroom on the far side of the room. He reappears moments later with a white medical supply box in hand. Flashing a quick grin, he kneels before me and gestures to my injured foot. "May I?"

A smile curves my lips as I narrow my eyes in mock irritation and lift up my bloody foot for inspection.

A gasp escapes my lips the moment his skin touches mine. Electricity shoots through my veins; a beautiful torture. The feeling is so wonderful it makes my toes curl and the hair on the back of my neck to raise.

Archer's eyes immediately fly up to meet mine, worried that his touch has hurt or upset me. He searches my gaze for any sign of discomfort or disdain but he finds none. I flash him a smile to reassure him. His shoulders relax when he accepts that he hasn't hurt me, quite the opposite really.

After a moment, his eyes return to his work. He begins to clean the wound with a wet cloth and asks quietly, "it really doesn't bother you? My touch, I mean."

I look at him but he's looking down, concentrating on his work to avoid my gaze. How could anyone be bothered by a touch that . . . captivating? I realize as I look at him that someone close to him must have been bothered by his electric touch. There's hurt in the hesitant way he talks about it. Whoever it was, I decide, is an idiot.

"No," I say truthfully. Then, out of curiosity, "why would it?"

Archer shifts uncomfortably. "Like I said before, my touch feels like being electrocuted to most everyone. People don't seem to like it very much."

Frowning, he looks down quickly but I don't miss the hurt in his eyes. For a moment, I feel a pang of sadness for the man -the stranger- before me. I can't imagine what it must be like, to never be touched. I'd go mad.

I admit, I haven't had the best life, being raised to be a soulless monster and all, but being treated like a pariah because of something you can't control? That's so much worse.

Out of its own accord, my hand rests on top of his. I try to ignore the electricity that ignites my entire being, but I can't help the delighted shiver that runs down my spine. Archer looks up sharply with surprise in his eyes. Curiosity flits across his features as he looks at me.

"I'm sorry," I say softly. I know the words won't mean much coming from a stranger, but still I say them. Someone with as good of a heart as Archer should never be subjected to this kind of hurt.

He looks away and is silent for a long while. Quietly, he goes back to his work. When the soles of my feet are clean, he tosses the bloody rag aside and asks, "why did you leave your old home?"

The question takes me by surprise. I sit in a stunned silence for a long moment, chewing on my lips. What can I tell him that won't make him see how much of a murderous creature I was back then? Finally, I speak, choosing my words carefully.

"I . . . they were corrupt. They wanted me to do something horrible and I couldn't do it. I was raised to be cruel; a killer but . . . I didn't want to be. I craved love and there was no love in that place. So I left," I finish lamely. Something inside me urges me to tell him everything; to trust this stranger but I push the instinct down. He wouldn't understand.

Archer glances up from his work briefly, probing me with his green gaze. One dark eyebrow arches. "And they just let you go? They didn't come after you?"

Again, he surprises me with his understanding. So much so, that I let the truth slip through my lips.

"They found me once, two years ago," I whisper, barely audible. My heart beat stutters then beats faster as I recall that day.

"The one who found me, he was my friend, I guess you could say, or the closest thing I've had to one. He said that everyone was looking for me and he wanted to know why I left . . . I told him that I was doing what they wanted me to do."

I pause, trembling as I remember the way his icy blue eyes had looked at me; riveting and unbelieving.

"He . . . he didn't believe me, I could tell, but he didn't call me on it. Instead he . . ." Told me he loved me, I don't say. "Let me go."

In my mind's eye, I can see him -Ryder, my mind supplies- as his icy blue eyes bore into mine, intimidating and intense. Rain pours onto him, matting his inky black hair to his forehead as he reaches for me- I shake my head, banishing the traitorous thoughts from my mind.

"I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm telling you all of this," I apologize, face burning with embarrassment. I look back at Archer and realize, with a start, that he's done bandaging my foot.

He sits, gazing up at me with a hand resting on my ankle, sending calming waves of electricity into my skin.

"Don't be," he says earnestly, "I'm glad you told me. . . I'd like to get to know you better."

Before I can respond, he takes my hand and pulls me up to my feet. Not expecting that, I stumbling into him. On instinct, his arms wrap around my waist to catch me, embracing me with electric arms. I look up slowly to see his intensified gaze on my lips.

Captivated, I lean forward, my eyes moving from his darkening green eyes to his nearing lips. When his lips are a mere hair's breath from mine, I hold my breath. My heart is quiet in my chest, leaving room for my screaming conscious.

You can't kiss him! That's exactly what Octavian wants you to do. You have to protect him better than this.

Archer feels me freeze and pulls back. He gazes down at me, a knowing look in his gorgeous green eyes.

"I-I'm sorry. I can't," I whisper regretfully, shivering from the absence of his warmth.

"I know," he sighs with a rueful smile and steps away to dig in one of his dresser drawers. He pulls out a black hoodie and tosses it to me.

I catch it and realize I'm still in only spandex and sweat soaked t-shirt from earlier. I flush scarlet and pull on the sweatshirt. It's too big on me so I roll up the sleeves to free my hands. Brushing my dark curls out of my face, I murmur a quick, "thanks."

His green eyes soften once again as he looks at me and he says, "come on, I'll walk you to your room."

We walk through the halls in silence until we come to my door. I turn to Archer to thank him, I'd've never found it by myself, but find him looking at me strangely, an unreadable expression on his handsome face.

I try to say something but can't find the words to speak.

Saving me from my useless fumble for words, Archer steps closer.

"Goodnight, Viridian," he murmurs softly and presses his lips to my forehead lightly. A small gasp leaves my parted lips at the feel of the lightning that fills my soul.

And then he's gone, striding down the hall as if nothing happened, leaving me alone with a shuddering heart.

I reach up to touch my forehead and, as my fingertips brush the spot Archer kissed, I wonder what I'm willing to give up for this man -this stranger- that seems to have captured my attention.

Am I willing to give up the safety I have here? Will I give up the possibility of belonging? Of friendship?

Dropping my hand, I look down the hall where Archer disappeared and sigh. The real question is; what aren't I willing to give up for him?