Page 134 of Nocturne

‘Edible? EDIBLE?! You ruined perfection! Those were worth more than your life!’

Dad tried to dodge, but his rice-threshing attempt earlier had left him limping, so Grandpa was hot on his heels. The two of them circled the house while my mom, my sister, and I were doubled over, tears streaming down our faces. Grandpa shouted things like, ‘This is why I didn’t trust you with the goats!’ and, ‘Your ancestors would be ashamed!’

By the time they finally called a truce, the meat was beyond saving, and Grandpa refused to let Dad anywhere near the grill ever again. We ended up eating plain rice with some sides and laughing until our stomachs hurt.

Grandpa didn’t speak to Dad for the rest of the night, but he did sneak me a piece of chocolate and whispered, ‘Don’t grow up to be an idiot like your father.’

It’s one of my favourite memories—watching three generations of chaos unfold on that farm. And to this day, I can’t look at a grill without hearing Grandpa’s voice in my head, saying, ‘Don’t screw it up.’”

I didn’t notice that I was crying until Zagan thumbed my tears, his expression thundering again. I leaned into his touch, not pulling myself away from anything I craved from him. I didn’t think about logic or reason; it just followed my heart.

“It kills me that I’m still not over their deaths. People say that over time, you tend to forget. But how do I forget the people who meant everything to me?”

I sniff, looking down at my hands clasped on my thigh.

“My hands still sometimes go to dial Papa’s number when I cannot do my taxes. I still crave Ma’s chicken broth when I’m sick. I miss Grandpa not for a particular reason, but just because.”

I bury my face in my hands, not able to keep it up anymore. The grief, the fear and the guilt, it’s too much. And I’m growing tired. So tired that if not for the knowledge that there was no guarantee that Vir would come after everything that I loved, I would have gone and offered myself up to him.

“They would have loved Cas. Ma would’ve spoiled him rotten. Papa and Grandpa would open up paths to him that I didn’t even know existed. They would groom him to be the person he is supposed to be. I wouldn’t have to be scared all the time. I wouldn’t-“

I stop my rant mid-way, catching myself before I say too much.

The hands covering my face are gently pried away for my eyes to see Zagan and his face that has returned to the usual broody anger. A muscle inside his cheek ticks madly, and I’ve come to know that it happens when he is very angry, which is all the time.

“You don’t have to be scared now, Ara,” he says, which comes out more like a demand.

“Why?” I ask, despite myself.

The part, the stupid part that only wants a sliver of hope, is desperate for it.

“Because you’re mine. And I protect what’s mine.” He vows.

For a moment, I consider him and his words.

For a moment, I believe them.

I believe that this all-encompassing kind of man is the answer to all my prayers. That he can shield me from my nightmares, save me from my boogeyman and give me the peace I crave. Just for a moment, I let myself imagine being carried off to a life filled with nothing but laughter and joy in his arms that feel as safe as Papa’s.

And that moment of indulging in hopeful and happy but delusional thoughts makes me do something I’d usually not have the guts to do. I surprise myself and him by circling his waist with my arms and burying my face in his chest. I take in a large inhale, memorising the smell that is him so that I’d always remember.

I know that I could never forget him. He has that imposing aura about him that makes it impossible for anyone to forget him.And I know for a fact that it is also impossible for someone to evoke feelings in me like he does.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

It takes him a minute to wrap his hands around me, but when he does, he pulls me deep into him, his chin resting on my head. We stay like that for a short moment, basking in the reprieve I stole from him. It all comes crashing down when his phone rings inside his pocket.

I hear him growl, causing me to smile, before I let him go. He doesn’t let me go far as one of his hands still circles my waist, and the other fishes his phone from his pant pocket.

“What?” He barks into the phone, startling me slightly.

His thumb rubs the base of my spine while he listens to whatever is being told on the other end. I don’t even think he notices himself comforting me, but it does help me relax for a few seconds until his face morphs into a frown. It takes a lot for something to make him knit his brows completely, and I just know whatever it is, it can’t be good.

The reality of the situation sinks in. The perfect weather that we have been having is gone now. The evening has broken into dusk, slowly giving way to the night. The darkness beckons the monsters to come to play and hunt.

I stand at the same time he hangs up, rubbing the remainder of the tears.

“You should go,” I tell him and take a step back.

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