Page 83 of My Summer Girl

Bonds are a mystery to me, and the allure of Dulce’s call is beyond my comprehension. However, like a captivating siren by a serene lake, I find myself enthralled and unable to resist her pull.

Once I open my door, my eyes meet his forlorn form. Since we were children, growing and learning life together, there have only been a few situations that have led him to this expression.

His shoulders are sagged, his head hanging low, while his elbows rest on his pants. Sitting on the chair near my vanity, he seems so lost.

“Raev,” I whisper, suddenly losing all the fuel in my overheated engines. The gentleness of my voice makes him recoil, and I can tell he's frightened. He’s shutting down and our conversation hasn’t yet begun.

My chest hammers with concern, actual sadness consumes me as I take a few steps closer. “Don’t.”

It’s one word, but it might as well have been a chasm of emptiness, two mirror cliffs with no way to the other side.

“What happened?”

Slowly, his head rises, and the brown eyes I’ve memorized the depths and ridges of each shade stare back at me with so much guilt. They’re red-rimmed, a color I didn’t know they could have. Wetness glosses them and all I want to do is hug him.

“Mi media naranja,” he breathes out, his hand rising to his chest. Palm flat, riddled with scars and wear holds his heart like it's bleeding. “Lo siento.”

I know that one.

I’m sorry.

Taking another step, he turns to me. “No, no,” he urges, putting his hands out like I’m getting too close. We’ve never had this kind of distance. Not once. My heart physically throbs, like it reaches for him, unable to connect. He’s putting an invisible barrier between us and the thought physically stings.

Instead of listening, I meet him where he sits. Even when he’s sitting down, he is the same height as me, and I'm not even considered short. Unable to resist the urge to reconnect our skin, I trace his cheek with the back of my hand. The shudder that goes through him is only half as sad as the whimper that follows. Raev has always been this massive Orukna, a proud one, but no one has a gentler heart than him.

“What happened?” I ask once more, zero malice in my tone. It’s strange how a simple reconnection of flesh can soften my hardened exterior. He pushes into my outstretched hand, like he needs me to continue petting him.

I do.

My fingers trace the new scars on his cheek and the other on his head, nearly matching the one from times long lost.

He hums as I undo his braid, tracing his scalp and hair tendrils with kindness. We’ve always been close. We’re us. We’ve always been able to talk and cuddle, and be whatever we needed for one another.

“I missed you,” he rumbles, his voice soft but shaky, like he’s still overwhelmed with what he’s feeling.

“And I, you,” I admit, feeling this emotion clog in my throat. “You keep avoiding my question.” He tenses under me, but I don’t stop recalling each wound as my fingers dance over them.

“I went to Cinder,” he admits, and I recognize the name. “He told me about Vex.”

“I met them,” I say quickly.

He jerks his eyes to mine, a glint of something possessive and heated passes over his expression before he breaks contact. Just as I begin to ponder the significance of that look, he carries on.

“The club,” he corrects. “I snuck in by using Dulce as a port-path.”

The little gasp that escapes me concerns me more than I care to admit. He did kidnap her. Intentionally. My hands don’t stop their exploration, I couldn’t draw them away if I wanted to. My vines are even peeking out, touching and winding around his skin like they’re reacquainting themselves with a lost love.

“She was perfect,” he croaks, his jaw ticking as he holds his breath. His eyes gauge my reactions before continuing. “I saw her, and something drew me in. I wanted her for you...” he trails off clearing his throat as if the words hurt to let out. “For us.”

Us?

Just as I start to speak, he interrupts, unwilling to let me have a word. “She dances naked.” His voice is soft, almost reverent. “She twirled and moved, humming, and then when she went into the lake, she stayed under for so long that I almost thought I’d lost her. When she came back up for air, it was like everything was right in the world. She took my breath away.”

I swallow the sudden dryness of my throat and hum, thinking of her. She’s wildflowers and honey. Sweet and luscious. Peace.

“Then I followed her port to Vex’s. I watched her. She lost herself in these two performers, almost like she imagined herself in their stead. Nothing could push the desperate way her soul sang to mine.” His hands slide up my arms, encircling my elbows. “She called to me for a reason.” The need for him to reassure that solidifies something in me. “Then she decided to do this fancy viewing thing and when she began to undress, I couldn’t let her. She’s mi—ours.”

Grip not softening, his hands slide up my upper arms. While I’m not unused to his touch, this seems different, intentional. My heart hammers with fear, the kind that overtakes your every thought.

---