Part 8 (1/2)
His words calm me down, and I breathe evenly again.
Reece and Ryder have mentioned Blaise is different. Maybe he understands what I'm going through.
”How are you doing this to me?” I whisper. ”How are you keeping me out of my nightmares and letting me see this sky?”
”It's complicated.”
”But it's because you're different?”
He takes a couple of breaths. ”Yeah, because I'm different.”
”Are you ...? Are you human?”
”Yes and no.” A drop of rawness slips into his tone. ”But you don't need to be afraid of me.”
”I'm not afraid of you,” I reply. How could I be afraid of him when I'm lying here under the cloudy sky that he somehow created in my head? ”One day, will you explain what you are?”
”One day,” he says, but I can't tell if he means it or not.
Deciding to drop the subject for now, I fold my arms across my stomach and gaze up at the sky. ”So, now what do we do?”
”We wait for the poison to wear off.”
”Then what?” A thought strikes me hard, like a kick to the gut. ”Wait? Where are Ryder and Reece?”
”In the tents probably.”
”What are they doing up there?”
”You probably don't want to know.”
”Oh.” My gut coils into knots, nausea setting in. ”They told me to watch out for them, and I didn't. Whatever happens to them ... It's my fault.”
He sighs. ”It's not your fault. You were pretty much unconscious when you were brought here.”
”But Ryder and Reece gave me the last shot of Shade, and I wasted it.” I frown. ”I never should've let that queen-or whatever she is-shoot me.”
”The queen?”
”Yeah, the woman the Forsaken kept calling 'your highness.' ”
”Oh.” His confusion leaves his tone. ”That's the Forsaken's leader.”
”Yeah, like their queen.” A bolt of lightning flashes right above me, so close I can feel the electricity flowing off it. ”But she wasn't wearing a crown.”
”Hmmm ... I think this might be one of those things that you remember that we don't.”
”Oh.” How many times is this going to happen? How many things do I remember that no longer exist? Will every revelation be disappointing?
I sink into the quiet, listening to the thunder grumble as Blaise restlessly s.h.i.+fts around. Every once in a while, his fingers tremble, and I find myself reaching up, wanting to comfort him. When my fingertips brush his scruffy jawline, he sucks in a sharp breath, and the tension pouring off him nearly doubles.
Confusion and curiosity swirl through me. Why does he still seem somewhat tense around me?
”Blaise, can I ask you a question?”
”I ... I guess so.”
”Why were you afraid of me when we first met?”
”I wasn't,” he lies.
I trace my fingers from his jaw to his lips and graze my fingers along the metal piercings. ”When you carried me through the scanner, it seemed like you were. I could feel your heart pounding.”
”I was worried we weren't going to make it out alive,” he chokes. ”Allura, what are you doing?”
I absentmindedly graze my fingers back and forth across his lips. They're so soft. ”Huh?”
”With your fingers ... and the touching ...?” He's breathing so ravenously he's practically panting.
”I'm sorry.” I lower my hand. ”I don't know why I did that. You just seemed upset, and I was trying to comfort you.” I feel ridiculously clueless about everything. Why can't I comfort them like they comfort me?
”You're fine.” He sounds more at ease now that my hands aren't pawing at his mouth. ”I just have a problem with being touched. It has nothing to do with you, though.”
”Oh.” Why? I wonder. But I don't think he wants to talk about it, so I don't ask.
”Where's your mind right now?” He changes the subject. ”Are you still under that grey sky?”
I nod. ”It smells really good here, like rain and fresh gra.s.s.”
”Rain? Like water from the sky?”
”Yeah ... Please tell me it rains here.”
”I've heard of rain, but I've never seen it. It doesn't happen very often.”
I crinkle my nose. Hardly any rain. No blue sky. No gra.s.s. No trees. No nature. What a sad place the world is.
”Hold still for a minute,” he mumbles. ”Let me see what I can do.”
I don't know what he means, but I remain perfectly still, anyway.
His fingers move, his fingertips tickling along my hairline. A soft hum fills my head, and I close my eyes and spread my arms out to the side, relaxing in the dirt. I'm so comfortable right now I could probably fall asleep.
”See anything yet?”
”No, but I feel-”