Page 80 of Sunder

Had she been wrong to ask for one? Something in Athan’s tone suggested she was. But those were the tools given to her, and he was not providing anything else.

Or... maybe he was.

To trust him. Rely on him. Tell him when she was frightened so he might comfort her.

Tell him when she wanted, so he might ply her with kisses and more of those caresses.

It seemed so simple and terrifying all at once.

“We shouldn’t,” Orma managed at last. “Hate anyone.”

His hold on her tightened. It was as close as she’d confessed to anyone that she struggled with bitterness. With a resentment too large and weighty to be carried on her own.

She loved her parents. Her family. Even the difficult parts. And yet...

“Maybe,” Athan countered, smoothing his lips against the top of her head. Not quite a kiss, not quite a nuzzle. Some delightful in between. “But that is something I will have to work on for a very long time, I think.”

She turned her head so she could breathe, and maybe so he could peek down at her if he wanted to. “We have time.”

She was rewarded with one of his smiles—sad about the edges, but sincere all the same.

“Let’s have a break, shall we?” Athan asked, when she’d calmed enough that her breaths came evenly. “See if Brum will accept company after all?”

There was no room for even a twinge of concern about the large beast and his preferences—too grateful was she for therespite. “Please,” she affirmed, and she didn’t even bother to protest when Athan plucked her up in his arms and led her out that way.

Let him tend her, if it made him feel better. Let him ferry her about if it meant his hands lingered a little longer on her waist when he set her down on the bench.

It meant she did not have to feel guilty when her head rested against his shoulder. When she realised the point of the footbridge because the Brum was sprawled across the wooden planks, his enormous paw dangling down and slapping haphazardly at the fish that passed by.

“He would soak himself, before,” Athan explained. Would wade into the middle of the stream and stay there for at least an hour, then he’d insist on coming inside to dry his fur by the fire. Not without first soaking me in the process as he climbed all over me to wipe it off.”

She brought her feet up and curled into his side, picturing it all in her mind as best she could. An exasperated Athan. A pleased Brum, taking advantage of Athan’s patience and good nature.

She was too much like the Brum, she feared.

Orma turned her head, frowning slightly. “So, you build footbridges for the Brum to make him happy. You’ll carry me about and feed me whenever I like, and are never slow to warm the kettle if I need a cup of tea.” There was a smile about his lips, as if she was recounting some of his fondest memories. “You never turn someone away without first hearing their need, then you work to set them up with someone else that might help.”

Her arm was tangled about his, and she squeezed it lightly. He was strong, his muscles firm beneath her palm, and she refused the niggling shame at how well she liked the feel of it. “Tell me, Athan. Who takes care of you as you take care of everyone else?”

He did not answer her immediately. Instead, he stretched out his arm and gestured to the garden. To the Brum. Then, finally, he turned his head and looked at her. “I have all I need right here,” Athan answered, voice perfectly sure of himself. “I am happy to do the rest.”

But it wasn’t right, was it? That was her role. Her privilege. To care for him as he cared for her.

For everyone else.

He nudged his shoulder against hers, so softly the tea he’d brought them did not even jostle. “I’m fine,” Athan insisted. “Truly.”

How many times had she said the same, knowing full well they were lies? But it was a comfort

She should accept that. Should give guilt no quarter in her mind and heart, but it didn’t quite work that way. She did not want to simply take from him. For him to survive on what few affections she could offer.

He deserved far more.

And maybe...

Maybe she did, too.

6. Infirmary

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