Page 46 of The Ballad of a Bard

Saints sake, that was fast.

“If anything happens that you aren’t comfortable with, like if I accidentally brush against you or you want more room, then you’ll tell me.” He fell back to his knees, letting his weight settle there. “Give me your word, that you will.”

She held her hand out. “I promise, West. I promise.”

“Good.” He took it slowly, locking his fingers around her wrist and shaking it once, twice. “Then I suppose I should get ready for bed. Do you want to use the washroom first, or shall I?”

“I’ll go first, if you don’t mind.” Crimson pushed herself out of the bed, her skin feeling as if someone set her on fire.

For once, she was perfectly fine with burning.

“Not at all.”

When the door was shut and she could hear him rummaging around in the room, she turned on the faucet and let the water run until it was ice cold. She cupped her hands, creating a bowl for the water to pool in. When there was more than enough, Crimson brought the liquid to her face and splashed it.

It wasn’t enough to calm her down, but it would have to do.

Nineteen

He was already in bed when she emerged, shifting in her thin nightgown that she usually slept in. It wasn’t anything fancy, nor was the charcoal trousers and beige shirt he wore. Crimson let her red hair down from the swept up bun she’d kept it in all day, running her fingers through the ends to prevent any knots.

West was on the left side, as if he’d seen where she slept and allowed her to keep her respective side. It was dark now, not even a slice of dusk to be seen from the windows. The curtains were all shut, the lights all doused. He must have done it when she was changing.

West cleared his throat as Crimson tugged the covers back and settled in, dragging them over her form as she laid her head down on the ivory pillow. He was facing her, his long lashes dipped low as he avoided eye contact.

“Goodnight then, Crimson.” He muttered before laying his forearm over his sight and letting out a deep breath. “Sleep well.”

“Sweet dreams.” She uttered back, bringing her knees up.Warmth immediately settled into her as the cool fabric of the sheets dispersed.

“I don’t,” He said, “Have dreams, that is.”

She blinked, taken aback at his statement. “How can you not have dreams? Everyone has dreams, even Saints.”

His chest rose and expanded as he inhaled. “I don’t see a point in them. Not when they’re filled with melancholic things such as love, which never lasts.”

His words whipped through her like a cat o’nine tails. They tore through her soul, shattering her to oblivion and beyond. She let the sadness wash over her, a flash of disappointment following soon after.

“I see.”

West uncovered his face, finding her. “It’s nothing to be sad about, Heartstrings. It’s just the unfortunate part of being a full-blooded Saint. I don’t want to fall in love, to watch the person who owns my heart fade away over time. Because I’ll live forever, because I’ll never die, I can’t afford myself a reason to get hurt like that.”

She chewed on the inside of her lip as she began to twist her cranberry hair. “But, there are more components to a relationship, other than love.”

“You mean like sex?”

The word jolted her system awake.

Sleep would be impossible now.

“Yes.”

Crimson heard his steady breathing as he responded. “I’ve had sex with plenty of mortals before. I just cut it off before it becomes anything too serious. I can’t get tangled up with emotions, with vulnerable feelings that might be the death of me.”

“That’s a terrible way to live.” Crimson said in horror. Shecouldn’t imagine only limiting herself to the barest, most basic, primal need instead of the wonderful feelings that surrounded it. It sounded like another version of death; morbid and sad.

His tone cut clear across the room. “Well, at least I would be living.”

“You’re not, though. You’re living ahalflife, at best.” She argued and he visibly flinched, but she went on. “ Love is one of the most powerful things on earth, one of the strongest emotions. Look at my father, he’s living proof of that. He embodied the heart and all the insane feelings tangled up within it. Love isn’t a curse, it’s a gift. One that I think you should let yourself experience, at least once in this life.”

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