Grimmer (Sequel to Kailin)

Chapter 20: Forgiven or Forgotten?

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Ana

***

My fingers brushed against the door, but I didn't want to go in. How could I?

Camille, the healer of Dunbirth, left me alone. Part of me was thankful.... Part of me wanted her to tell me I had to leave.

While everyone else was busy outside... I just stood there.

... Until I realized how stupid that was. I may not be letting Zanek sift through my thoughts, but he was elven still.

The handle turned in my grip, allowing me space to slip in. My chest hurt and I hadn't even looked at him yet.... The lock gave a soft click when I turned back to shut the door, as if maybe he wouldn't notice we were alone if the noise was soft.

I paused there to take a deep breath. If my eyes were closed, I wouldn't have to look at him yet. My stomach ached from stress and fear more than worry. Suddenly I was more scared of him than I was upset.

I couldn't move. My eyes shut tight. There was a... painful sound of breath coming from behind me. I was stuck there for a long moment listening to the sound... the soft wheezing that he was trying to hide. It was steady, though deep; he'd definitely injured at least one lung.

I'd taken a deep breath to find some strength and immediately felt bad because he might've felt I was mocking him. How ridiculous was I being?

What was I even doing there?

When I somehow found the courage to turn around... the sight angered me, when I expected it to make me feel... worse.

He was obviously vexed. Seething, even. His hands were shut tight in front of his elbows, as if maybe he could squeeze me between them until I shrunk to nonexistence. I would have enjoyed that as well.

The taught muscles of his back were more tensed than simply upset. His scowl, clenched jaw, burning eyes.... It struck at my core. He could easily be mad. But I refused to even venture into his reasoning then, when I'd come to stand before him when I would've much rather been away. Running somewhere, maybe.

Away from the dark hole he seemed intent on burning into the ground with his gaze.

"If you're to be mad at anyone, be mad at me. It was my ch--"

"Enough. I'll not hear it."

I felt my own expression twist into something darker. "Are you the only one to be allowed emotion, Zanek?"

"Don't press me," he snarled, a ripple chasing the air that licked his bare skin with heat.

Though as stoic as he seemed there in front of me, I knew the face he wore was covering the pain he felt.

My own wrist was bound. It was still a bit stiff, though no longer bloody. I'd changed that wrap before coming.

I'd presented him with enough of my weaknesses.

... And I needed for him not to be another.

My feet started into a slow procession.

... I sat beside him on the bed.

Zanek didn't look at me. He hadn't even moved. He sat on the edge of the mattress, elbows resting on his knees in front of him. His head was not hanging but he looked down, then more in stifled anger than defeat. It was my fault; I knew it was.

One of his arms was out when it should've been in the sling; his back and chest bare. The bloodied shirt was hanging across the back of a chair not too far away. Nothing looked fresh. The dark bruises splayed across his right side, my side, already seemed old and healing. His jaw seemed fine. I hadn't seen him since the day before, but if what happened earlier was truly a consequence of being his link... so much had healed already. I'd felt it all. I would know.