Silver Threads ↠ Matthew Fairchild [1]

ELEVEN

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T A L I S M A N S   A N D   S P E L L S

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Willa watched Thomas quietly, her grey-blue eyes flickering over his figure as he sat atop his bed with his head in his hands. The Herondale girl gulped slightly, her heavy heart due to Barbara's death feeling ten times heavier from her best friend's pain. She had to take a deep breath in order to calm herself down, knowing that she was the one that had to be strong for the both of them. She had to be there for Thomas in a way she never thought she would have to be, but that she knew she would do without hesitation.

"Tom," Willa spoke softly, walking into the spare room of the Institute that they had made up for Thomas. "I've got some more blankets for you."

Thomas was quick to sit up, desperately trying to act as if he hadn't just been drowning in his own misery. He didn't speak and merely nodded his head, something that made Willa frown. The girl was silent as she moved across the room, carefully setting the extra blankets on a chair before sitting down beside Thomas who had shifted his gaze to the floor.

His face was stained with tears, his eyes so red that Willa wouldn't be surprised if they had been rubbed raw. His face held a haunted sadness, an emotion Willa wished she never had to see upon her friend's face. He didn't speak and Willa watched as a stray tear rolled down his cheek. She was quick to wipe it away, her loving gesture making Thomas squeeze his eyes shut as a shaky breath escaped his lips.

Willa let her hand fall back down and she placed it atop Thomas' hand, the boy flipping his hand around to lace their fingers together. He gripped onto her hand tight, his eyes still shut while he began to lean against her for support.

It took a minute for Thomas to open his eyes and he sniffled before glancing over at Willa and then back down at her hand which he continued to grip onto like his life depended on it. "I hope—" Thomas' voice cracked and he had to collect himself before trying to speak again. "I hope it's okay that I asked to stay here instead of. . .instead of going to Idris with my parents."

"Of course, Tom," Willa said, her eyes still flickering over his face. "You're always welcome here, you know that. I just can't help but wonder if you might be more comfortable staying with Christopher?"

Thomas was quick to shake his head, his hand now gripping onto hers so tight that the girl had to hold back a wince. "No," he said. "No. I want to stay with you, if that's alright. You're my best friend, Willy. I feel better when I'm with you."

Willa softened a bit at that and she couldn't help but feel a little guilty that her heart warmed at his words. "Alright, then," she whispered, the two falling into a silence as they sat shoulder to shoulder with their hands still intertwined.