Page 71 of Darkest Deception

“Why don’t you give it to her?” His voice is soft, quiet.

I huff out a small laugh. “Okay. Sure. Great idea.”

“So you prefer getting her a gift and then not giving it to her? What will you do with it, then?” he asks.

I’m silent, the gusts of wind ruffling my hair on the quiet street.

“I think I will send it to Santa. Make use of it, you know?”

The look I receive as an answer should be criminal. Helia looks annoyed by my pathetic attempt at a joke.

“Jokes don’t work. Okay…” I whisper, turning my head back to save myself the embarrassment.

“Never try that again.” He huffs.

Blaze turns to look at him, tilting his head before he looks at me.

“Why a crow?”

Helia’s eyes narrow. I think I am giving him whiplash with the sudden changes in topic.

“Why not?” He shrugs, reaching up to run a finger down Blaze’s back. Blaze nuzzles Helia with his head and gives a soft caw. My heart instantly melts.

“I would have never expected you to have a pet, never mind a crow.”

Helia quietly chuckles, grasping my attention. I just can’t seem to look away from him.

“Why aren’t you there? With them?”

He looks down at the pavement under our feet, not moving or speaking for a couple of seconds. I almost give up waiting for an answer. He glances up at me, the wind stronger, ruffling his black hair into a mess.

His broad shoulders bump mine every once in a while. I wonder if he’d be able to lift me with one hand. That thought never crossed my mind until today.

“I stepped out for a smoke break, then I found a sad little fox outside.” His answer prods at my heart, demanding answers that I will never be able to give.

His perspective of me, a sad girl sitting on the pavement with a gift in her hand, a solemn look on her face, creates an ache inside of me. I have never been perceived as a sad, lost girl.

I find myself giving in and whisper, “Sad?”

I’m not sad. I’m not weak.

They should be the least likely words used to describe me. The last time someone called me that, I lost so much of me that I still haven’t recovered. Sometimes I feel like a broken glass vase that is still missing small, shattered pieces that will never be found.

I feel empty and forever will.

I will bear it and keep it tucked away. No one will witness this missing part of me.

“I didn’t even know it was you until I recognised this long blond hair.” He reaches out and gently tucks a loose stand of hair behind my ear, like he has done before. And like the previous few times, his eyes snap to my earrings, though I am not sure why.

Then his gaze drops to my wrist, to my fingers.

He slowly leans closer, his fingers brushing my hair off my shoulder, and when his eyes land on my emerald diamond necklace, they soften somehow. The look on Helia’s face is similar to how Remo looks at Aurora, when his shoulder drops a fraction and his hand instinctively reaches out to her.

Looking into Helia’s eyes feels like peeking into a world that is bleak, dark, and powerful. It feels like stepping into a silent place, where even one noise would awaken a beast that hunts and kills to clench its thirst.

And yet, it also feels like there is a tree within that world that provides warmth and comfort. Like that beast will sit and watch you silently as you take your rest.

It feels comforting to be watched by a beast.

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