Gods Under The Dome

15.2

《Fallout》

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Back at Titav HQ, I'm emptied of a lot of things - my nerves, my strength, part if not all my mind. I'm as empty as a Blackhole bag in Keran's clutches right before it's shoved onto someone else's head.

I severely doubt someone's going to take it upon themselves to fill up my emptiness, and I shouldn't expect anyone to, but -- it's the reason I'm standing in front of this door, hesitation freezing my fist mid-air, so I looked like some lunatic unsure of whether or not I should knock.

I lower my fist, shuffle back and forth. Blue light spills out onto the floor, washing over the tips of my bare feet. I stop, turn, raise my fist. Exhale. Inhale. Shake my head. Lower my hand. What the fuck am I doing?

The others had left me as soon as we'd arrived. Keran had taken the van to dispose of at another lower-level Sect, where a rusted piece of junk wouldn't stand out so much, while Della had sworn up a storm, stomping her way over every inch of the place, kicking over chairs and chaise lounges in an effort to vent her rage.

"I should be in bed." I turn, edge myself away from the door. "This is stupid."

"You're insane," Marava had said.

Maybe I am. I sigh, glance at the door. No blue light spills onto the floor. It takes me a moment to realize what that means, but before I have a chance to slink back to my bunk, bury my head under my pillow, cowering like a coward and failing to wrangle any wink of sleep, the door opens.

Covered in a pair of navy overalls, with long plastic blue gloves on up to his elbows, Nol stares at me with noticeable indifference. The bottoms of his pants are tucked into a pair of black combat boots and his hair sticks up in every direction. The doorframe creaks as Nol leans against it, his eyes impassive. Even though his appearance is less than welcoming, the absurd outfit, coupled with the spiky hair, prod me into doing what I do best. 

 "Stick your finger in an electrical socket recently?" I smirk. "Kidnap some mid-west farmer trope and steal his clothes?" 

Nol doesn't respond. Suddenly the air grows thick. It's hard to breath, especially with such an unreadable gaze directed at me. I tug at the edge of my shirt. "You know, I really didn't like our uniforms, too grey and shapeless, but don't you think that's a little much? Overcompensation is a real tragedy. Look at Marava. She--" 

Nol pushes away from the door, and in one fluid motion, tightens his arms around my waist. Suddenly the fabric of his overalls, is scratching my nose and I'm breathing in his scent. Woodsy and clean. His embrace is suffocating, but his heat is familiar. I hadn't realized how much I missed being near him, feeling him, pressing myself into him.

"I'm glad you're okay." His words set my world ablaze. Fire courses through my veins. My skin shivers as he drags his hands along my back, further stoking my desire. I needed him. I wanted him.

Much like Marava, I wish to run my nails along his forearm and claim him for myself, but all I can do, is raise my arms, return his embrace. Allow myself this moment of reprieve when that boy's hollow eyes aren't condemning me for taking his life. 

"You've abandoned all pretense," I whisper, eyes closed. A throaty purr escapes my lips as I burrow my head deeper into Nol's chest. "That's not how our relationship's supposed to work." My voice quakes. "I quip, you quip back, remember?"

His hair tickles my cheek. "Guess I'm done with pretense." He gives me a squeeze. "You're shaking."

He breaks our connection momentarily to intertwine his fingers in my hair. Wondering if he were as out of sorts as I was, I glance at his face. At noticing my staring, Nol looks to the side, his hair covering up the part of his face I can see.