Because I Love You✔️

Chapter 87: Of Orion and Fear

"That gives me a little bit of hope about the future," he finished. "I learned something that may have shifted my views on what I might want to do after all of this is over. I can't say for certain, but at the very least, it... made me a little less depressed than I would have been otherwise."

Instead of receiving a typical Ella reaction, such as a scoff or a scowl, her face went slack. He watched as her eyes began to gleam with something he couldn't discern.

"Is that so?" she tentatively asked, watching as he nodded. "Then I will say no more. No one else has to know how drunk you got this morning."

"Phil got drunk this morning?!"

Ella jumped and whirled when she saw Vrael standing in the doorway, silver hair soaking wet and mouth slack with shock.

He had obviously just come back from the hot springs, since he was dressed in his pajamas and a drying cloth was draped over his shoulders. Sinmir smirked when Xaphile face-palmed, letting out a deep sigh.

"Yes, Vrael," he grumbled, "I did."

"Did what?" Amelia absently asked, sifting through a basket of herbs as she joined Vrael in the doorway. "Has anyone seen my booklet on plants? I wasn't able to find it in the book stack this morning."

"I borrowed it yesterday. It's under my pillow," Vrael whispered. "But Phil got drunk, Amelia! He actually got drunk!"

"Oh, thank goodness," she sighed, poking at the plants in the basket. "I was beginning to..."

She paused, blinked a few times, then her head snapped up, eyes widening behind her glasses.

"He what?!" she gasped, gawking at him with a reproachful expression. "Phil!"

"What?!" Xaphile snapped.

"You should know better!" she shot back, eyebrows shooting up. "You're not of age!"

He plopped his head in his hands.

"Yeah, I get it," he grumbled. "I messed up. Now let's drop this conversation and move on."

"Move on from what?" Gus asked, pushing his soaked hair out of his eyes as he walked up behind Amelia. "Something happen while the Daael boy and I were bathing?"

"DAMMIT!" Xaphile yelled at the ceiling. "Okay, so now that everyone knows, I'll just admit that all the wine bottles in the corner are mine! There, I said it! Can we move on, please?"

"Moving on, moving on," Vrael awkwardly muttered, lifting his hands in a placating manner. "I don't even want to know. Now, who's making supper?"

"I'll do it this time," Sinmir offered.

Amelia, on the other hand, set down her basket of herbs in the corner of the room and moved to sit down directly in front of Xaphile, who blinked blearily in her direction. His head felt like it was splitting open.

"How bad is your headache?" she inquired, peering closely at his face. "Be honest."

"Pretty bad," he muttered, closing his eyes when she touched his forehead and pushed his hair out of his face. "I can understand why my father was such an asshole now. Hangovers suck."

"Oh, Phil," she sighed, pushing his hair over his shoulders. "You should have known better. Look, I'll heal you, how does that..."

Amelia suddenly froze, hands falling still in little more than a snapped second, but then her hand clamped around his left biceps and she held him still, pushing his hair away from his neck.

Her face drained of color.

As soon as she spoke again, he knew that something was undeniably wrong.