"I… I didn't specifically hear your story," I mutter. My throat is all dried up.
Harwal huffs and shakes his head as he straightens. "As you say."
What in the world just happened? I swallow a thousand times and sit up, pouring myself a glass of water from the side table. I stare at the wall where Harwal's shadow moves back to the corner. I chug more water and palm my cheek in confusion. I slide my hand down to my chest and feel the steady rhythm.
What I felt was not panic. I bat my eyes and frown. Ashamed. I was ashamed that I got caught eavesdropping. It's been so long since I've felt shame. How embarrassing. I'm like a kid getting caught with my hand in the cookie jar.
Dante stomps into the room and perks up as he sees me. "Morning," he says cheerfully. "Did you sleep well? Are you okay now?"
"I'm fine," I mutter and get up. Somehow, my clothing feels incredibly thin and revealing at this moment. "How are you? Do you feel better? What time is it?" I tug my flimsy clothes and bite my lip. What the hell is up with me? "Did you sleep well?"
"Calm down," Dante says and comes to wrap an arm around my shoulders. "I'm fine. I feel much better, and I slept well. It's five in the morning." He answers my barrage of questions and points at the clock on the side table.
I rub my hands together. "Is there anything for you to eat? We should ask for breakfast."
"I'll go ask," he says and leans to kiss my cheek. "Take a shower and freshen up."
I nod, staring blankly at the floor. I feel so strange. I got too much information and then that odd shameful feeling. I shake my head and straighten up.
"I'll take that offer, get some cheese buns if they have any," I mumble and waddle towards the bathroom with Dante on my side.
"I'll be back soon," he says, kissing my cheek once more before leaving.
I stare at the bathroom door and tug my fingers for a moment. "Wait, did you want something?" I ask, turning towards Harwal, but he's sleeping. His head is lulled to the side, and his chest rises slowly.
I suppose his 'softer' look was because he was tired. Has he been awake the whole night? He must've looked after Dante.
I look down and stare at my hand, clutching my chest. I wipe my chest and shake off the gesture. I'm appreciative. I need to thank him later.
I lock the door behind me, check the availability of a towel, and go to take a shower. I stand in the lukewarm water and close my eyes.
I honestly am a bit shaken by the whole story of the Zohra. It's not what I expected, and I'm not sure if I should feel pity or fear. Harwal said it was long, long ago, longer than I can even fathom. That's when they were oppressed. Then they rose against… gods of sorts and killed them.
How could I not fear them? Sure they got their fucked up problem with the maturing ceremony thing, but the god things helped them with it, but they still killed them.
But… Can I blame someone for something their ancestors did?
I blow out a breath, spraying the wall with droplets. I rub my eyes to clear the mascara and grunt.
What bothers me most about his story is the part about him being something of a pure Zohra or something. He said that nobody is as big as he is because of it. That brings me back to the conversation I had with grandma.
I stare emptily at the white tiled wall, which is not really white anymore, as it's filled with dirt and soot of previous customers.
Have I seriously misremembered that fucking rapist? Did my mind make a concoction from nightmares? Is it really possible for my mind to be so fucked? How can I not remember it right?
I squint at the wall, at a particularly dark spot, and start scratching it off. Grandma said that we have spoken about that man, that I've even seen pictures. Has my mind been altered with something? I would never forget that fuckers face.
The water grows colder so I try to quickly finish up my shower. I shiver as I towel myself dry. The water is only warm for a short while and I daydreamed for the duration.
It's so frustrating and infuriating that I get sucked into the madness of that asshole again. I want to let that part of my life go, and never think of it again.
I stare at my pile of clothes and wince. I don't have a change of clothes and my clothes are dirty. I wrap the towel tightly and peek out to the room, only hearing Harwal's steady breaths. I tiptoe to the large rickety cabinet and pull out an old bathrobe.
I need to ask Dante to grab a change from home. I sniff the bathrobe and choke on my breath. I slam it back on the rack and gag.
I know the owner of this motel and, yep, he definitely wouldn't wash or change them. Thank fuck he washes the towels. I stand dumbfounded at the cabinet, not sure what the plan is.
I'm cold, there's a Zohra in the room, I don't have clean clothes, and I'm naked.
"What's wrong?"
I shriek as the low voice sounds next to my ear. I turn and gape at Dante and he looks as bewildered as I am.
"What?" He asks and looks around the room with a covered tray in his hand. Harwal also woke up and stares at us. Great.
"I need a change of clothes," I mumble and wrap my towel tighter. "Sorry, I was surprised."
Dante snorts and grins at me boyishly. "You're such a scaredy-cat." He takes the tray to the bed and turns to give me a once over. "What clothes do you need? Work or home?"
"Uh," I mumble and stare at Harwal behind him, his eyes closing and opening slowly, he clearly is drifting back to sleep. "Home."
"Okay, I'll go grab you some," he says and points at the bed. "Go under the covers, your skin is full of goosebumps. Eat first, there's also coffee."
I frown at his energetic self and trudge to the bedside. "How are you so… perky this early in the morning?"
Dante smiles widely and shrugs. "I feel so much better. I feel like I gained the strength of a thousand men."
I glance at Harwal, who's sleeping now. A thousand men? Sounds about right I guess.
"Rest up and I'll be back soon," Dante says and comes to give me a peck on my forehead.
I sit on the bed and smile to myself. It feels so nice to see him brimming with life. I didn't think he could, considering everyone in this goddamned city looks like the grim reaper descended on them.
I go under the blanket and drag the tray to me. I open up the cover and drool at the sight. There is a big pile of cheese buns and a thermos bottle full of coffee. I pour myself a cup and chew on the bun. It's old, but it's still fine. Can't expect anything to be fresh nowadays.
I drink one cup and eat one bun before I have enough courage to turn to Harwal. He's still sleeping, so I blow a breath and pump myself up.
"Hey," I whisper and clear my throat. I chug more coffee and close my eyes. It's easier if I don't look. "I wanted to thank you for taking care of my son… and me. You were really kind," I whisper, not intending him to wake up when we're alone. But I still need to say it. "I'm also really sorry for everything rude I've said and done. I realise I was… naive. But still you helped, and I'm thankful for that."
I peek with one eye and blow a breath in relief. He's still breathing steadily with his eyes closed.
"God, I'm such a coward…" I mumble to my hands. The man saved my son and I don't even have the goddamn balls to say thank you when he's aware of it? What the hell is wrong with me? I blow out a heavy sigh and pour myself another cup to down.
"You're really odd," Harwal suddenly says, making me choke on the said coffee.
I cough and spill the shit all over myself. I stare at him with wide eyes. He looks unimpressed at my spectacle. This is the second time this has happened.
"You really are a walking mess," he says with a huff.
I release the corner of my towel and pat my chin clean. "I-I was… not expecting you to be awake."
"I wasn't, you woke me up," he mutters and stares at the mess I made. "You intentionally waited to speak to me when I'm asleep?"
I nod beside myself, and wince immediately. "Sorry… I-I'm a coward. I wanted to thank you face to face, but I really just wanted to get it out before I feel weird again."
Harwal stares at me and I lower my gaze. Feel weird? What the fuck does that mean? "Be-because Dante went out, I didn't want to wake you in case of, uh, I don't know how to say it nicely — I didn't feel safe? God. I'm horrible again… sorry."
I'm blabbering a mile an hour and can't look at him. I feel like the worst asshole. What kind of backhanded thank you is this?
Harwal huffs and I dare to peek at him. He has his eyes shut, but if I dare say, he looks a little amused. It's a nice image, to be honest.
Wait. No it isn't. Emotion is dangerous for Zohra.
"I like Kits. I wouldn't watch them suffer. No matter who their mother is."
"Oh," is all I can say and I sound disappointed even to my own ears. What the hell am I disappointed about? Of course he thinks I stink. I've been nothing but terrible. "...thank you anyway."
"Of course," he says and leans on his knees. "You have so much going on in that pretty head of yours. Can't you relax?"
"Excuse me?"
"It feels like you're misinterpreting every word I say."
"I-I'm not. I hear you loud and clear," I say. I can read between lines. He's calling me stupid and annoying.
Harwal tilts his head in silence and keeps staring with the famous unblinker.
"I'm not," I insist.
"You aren't?"
I scoff and take a bite of my cheese bun. I really don't like that stare of his. It feels like he can read my mind.
"Did you ruin the food with your spitting?" He asks.
I smack the bun on my leg and scowl at him. "I spat all over myself, not the food. They're safe under the cover."
"Why are you angry?"
"I'm not," I snap and shut my mouth. Maybe I am, but he was rude.
"Misinterpreting my words?"
"I'm not!" I point the bun at him. "You clearly said it in a way to rile me up, didn't you?"
Harwal tilts his head. "Did I?" He leans over and takes the bun I point at him and eats it.
I stare blankly at him, unsure what to say yet again. What the hell just happened? First he complains about spitting on food, then he eats the one I have already taken a bite of, and it wasn't even one protected by the goddamn cover from my coffee sputtering.
My cheeks flare up with heat and I feel my neck stiffen in irritation. I don't understand him at all. Am I mistaken about his words? I scoff. That's impossible… is he purposefully trying to confuse and annoy me?
I blow out a breath and gesture at him. "You are trying to annoy me on purpose." I push the tray to him and sip my coffee as elegantly as a coffee splattered woman can. "I'm not falling for it."
"I haven't tried to annoy you," he says and scavenges two buns. "You're making up a meaning which I don't intend. I say what I say and mean it exactly as I say it."
"Yeah, I get it already." I roll my eyes and snatch a bun of my own. "I know you don't like me and I don't blame you."
Harwal huffs and chomps half of his bun. "I find you very interesting."
I scrunch my nose at him and do the 'sure you do' nod.
"Isn't it the other way around? You dislike me," he says, leaning back on the armchair as he chomps down the last of his bun. "Don't decide what I feel based on your emotions. I was irritated about what happened at the lake before and I did make misconceptions about you based on that, so I apologise. But we cleared that misunderstanding."
I purse my lips and avoid the unblinker. "I'm sorry about that," I mutter. "And thanks I guess... that you don't, uh, despise me."
"You humans make everything so complicated, it's fascinating," he says. "I have been corrected many times by Ava and others because of how I say things. I'm curious how you interpret my words. You don't correct me as they do."
I hang my head and palm my face. "I don't because you are… scary."
"Because I could kill you? Everyone can kill you if they try hard enough," he says matter-of-factly. "Are you afraid of everyone?"
I frown and side-eye him. "Are you trying to make me frantic about everyone? I don't need that thought in my head."
"I'm not trying to do anything, I'm asking."
"Aren't you forgetting my… past? Of course I'm afraid of you."
Harwal blinks and huffs louder than he usually does. "I'd really like to see this male. It's impossible to look like me and have such weak blood."
"Well aren't you amazing," I snap.
"There isn't any reason to deny what I am," he says calmly and leans his cheek on his hand. "I was shunned by others when I was young because of it. They thought we were inbred and disgusting, which wasn't the case. It was precise breeding to keep the 'gods' blood strong and our genetics free of impurities. I do not care for it, but I'm not sorry about it nor will I hide my heritage. It's simply what I am."
"I get it," I mumble and pour a fourth, or fifth, cup of coffee for myself. The cup is too darn small.
"What is it you get?"
"That you're proud of who you are, congratulations."
He grows silent and I split a bun for myself. I don't know how I'm still so hungry. I need to leave some for Dante, but there is only three and a half after this. I look back at Harwal and he's staring down at the floor with an oddly sad, or absent expression. If you could call it an expression, maybe the vibe?
"Wh-what's wrong?" I stutter, a little alarmed at his change of mood.
"I'm not proud of myself," he says, avoiding my eyes for the first time.
I almost choke on my bun. He sounds awfully sad. Jesus, what can of worms did I open?
"I'm sorry," I say and sip my coffee in a desperate attempt to distract myself and hopefully him. God, where is Dante?
"What are you sorry about?" He asks and I squirm in discomfort. What the hell are you supposed to say to that?
"Uh, do you want to talk about it?" I try.
"Talk about what?"
Ugh. I point at the leftover buns. "Eat up, if you're still hungry." Sorry Dante, mom needs an escape.
"You're not making any sense," he says and leans forward again. "That's why you're interesting. You find such odd things to say and do."
"Thanks… I guess."
"Ah. Not being proud of myself?" He suddenly says and tilts his head with a thoughtful look. "I don't care to think about the past. It's tragic."
I nod and try to look anywhere else but at him. How stifling. I feel for the sentiment and that makes it worse. I want to know, but then again, I don't. It makes me so goddamn curious to know how the biggest guy I've seen isn't proud of himself? What was tragic? Of course their home's destruction, but I doubt it's just that. Is it just that?
"You heard my story," I blurt out and I bite my tongue, hard. Fucking hell. I'm the one who always kept my mouth shut about my goddamn life and now I'm the one nosing into someone else's?
"Ignore that," I say and wave my hands frantically. "I take it back. I don't want to know."
Fuck. Where is Dante? Is he taking the longest route known to man?
Harwal makes a throaty sound and picks up the halved cheese bun. "Curious, but don't want to pry," he says and huffs. "Cute."
Cute? I open my mouth to interject, but I don't mind it. I think I prefer cute, rather than being a witch that needs to be killed.
"I was in a lot of wars and the one who led them. There were decisions and there was death," he says and I dare to look at him and his oddly tired gaze. "Everything was my decision and my responsibility and I need to live with those decisions. Recently I had to execute my only childhood friend. It had to be me, but now even his blood is on my hands. That's why I'm not proud of myself."
I swallow the lump in my throat, or try to, but it feels stuck. It kinda makes sense, all of their titles are military-related. Harwal means lieutenant, so I guess that meant he made some big decisions.
I'm used to hearing the military being praised, but I never thought about how the people in war would feel or think.
"I wanted to retire when we got to earth, but I'm still needed, and I will do my duty…" he says and flexes his hand. "Now you have heard a bit of my story as well."
I'm not sure if he attempted the last sentence as something to lighten the topic, but it just made me feel like a shithead.
"Oh," I mumble and cup my throat. I feel horrible for being curious. "I'm sorry you had to go through that."
"We all went through that," Harwal says, and then tilts his head. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Oh…" I touch my face and try to figure out how I was looking at him. With pity? "I'm sad that there are such things even outside earth. It really sucks."
It really sucks? Am I fifteen?
"It does suck," he says and eats the bun he fiddled with.
"...but isn't killing what Zohra do?" I say before I even think about the words.
Harwal stares at me and I can practically feel him turn cold again. "It is what we do," he says and rises from his seat. "Does it mean I have to like it?"
"I don't know what's wrong with me," I whisper dryly. Clearly I'm an asshole, and I acknowledge it. It's true that's what I implied.
"You have been traumatised and I don't blame you for it, but don't dismiss others because of it. I don't think what happened to you should've, but I do not pity you either. You got out and you're living the best you can. Some people aren't strong enough to do so. I only hope you could rid yourself of that prejudice you have against my people," he says and sits on the bed. "I know many who couldn't live with the guilt and fear they receive. Be proud that you survived."
I stare emptily at his huge hand grabbing another bun. "...why are you telling me that? Shouldn't you say that to yourself?" I rasp.
The pastry is midway to his mouth as he pauses and stares at me.
"I-I'm really sorry again. I just blurt out whatever comes to my mind." I feel so guilty for saying whatever I want. I should be squirming on the ground, thanking him for everything he has done. Instead I'm hurting him with my thoughtless words.
Harwal doesn't say anything in response, only keeps staring at me with that confused gaze.
"What?" I ask… then I realise he's in the bed. Right next to me. "Wh-why are you sitting there?" I tighten my towel and lean back.
"Because you haven't been afraid of me," he mumbles.
"Th-that doesn't mean you can j-just sit next…" I pause, realising he's making fun of me. "A-are you trying to scare me?"
Harwal squints at me and eats the bun. "I have it incredibly easy," he mutters and points at the thermos bottle. "Is there any left?"
"You're purposefully trying to fuck with me, aren't you?"
He huffs and grabs the flask. "I'm not trying to fuck you."
Somehow that doesn't sound like the fuck I meant. "I meant you're trying to screw around–no, mess… God, what's the word!" My cheeks are flaring up, I can feel the scorch of it spreading down to my neck and chest. "You know what I mean!" This is humiliating.
Harwal sips the coffee straight from the bottle and huffs again. "You would know if I was trying to fuck, screw, or mess you."
Oh my god. I stare at his stoic expression and tighten my towel even more.
"I'm not now," he says, huffing, as he sees my gesture.
Is he making fun of me? Is this his version of revenge for being an ass? He purposefully came closer because he knows I don't like it. He's screwing around with me. Even this conversation is weird to me, and I'm sure he knows it.
"Wh-why do you keep teasing me? I already said I'm sorry."
"Am I?"
"You keep making me uncomfortable on purpose."
"I only said I'm not trying to fuck you."
"That's not all you did, and how the hell should I know if you are or aren't?"
Harwal huffs. "Zohra touch a lot when interested." He suddenly slides his hand on my arm and strokes it up my arm, up to my neck. He wraps his finger behind my neck and nudges my jaw up with his thumb, making me look up at him.
I'm too stunned to move or react in any way.
"Don't be confused whether I flirt or not. This is how a Zohra would show interest," he says and tugs me towards him, as if he's about to kiss me. He glances down at my lips and huffs. "But don't worry, this is just a demonstration." He lets go of my neck, leaving it burning, and then he takes the thermos bottle and a bun.
I keep staring with my lips parted, ready to say something—anything, but even my breath is stuck in my throat.
I… I want to scream. But for the wrong goddamn reason. I turn from him and instead stare at my lap with wide eyes. Why… Why was that incredibly hot? I should be terrified. I wasn't reacting as I should've.
I swallow hard and palm my neck, feeling the heat there. I can't… I can't believe that turned me on a bit. I bite my lips together and scowl at my thoughts.
I just haven't had action for a while, that's why it's affecting me. I mean, it's ridiculous that my body suddenly isn't afraid. He helped Dante, but that doesn't mean he isn't dangerous.
I palm my face and squeeze my eyes shut. A demonstration? Why? Just to tease me? Why is he so annoyingly casual now? This isn't fair at all.
I need to calm down. I'm laying into his hands by being bothered. He did it to annoy me, after all.
Boy, do I wish something would swoop in and take this atmosphere away naturally. Like Dante or… Greece.
"Where's Greece?" I squeak. "Did she contact us?"
Harwal's in the middle of drinking the last of the coffee. He swallows it, and I stare at a dribble going down his chin. "She didn't send any mail," he says.
I'm not entirely sure if that's odd. I don't know anything about fixing the tech on our ship. Who knows how long it could take, and Greece is notorious for losing track of time.
"We should probably visit her at the ship," I whisper and tighten up my towel as I get off the bed. I need to clean up again.
"Now?"
"I need clothes, Dante will bring some soon. Then I need to go home to change into work clothes."
"Why?"
"I asked Dante for home clothes. I'm a prostitute, I can't wear that outside. I have to keep it up if I'm walking around with you. Otherwise, we would get a lot of unwanted attention."
Harwal grunts.
I stare at the dribble still on his chin. I wave my hand around my chin and then point at him. "You're a walking mess."