Page 37 of Blue Embers
Killian’s mouth curled into a slight smile like he was catching the drift of my interview. I was digging, trying to understand what was going on around me. Between us. I was trying to grasp for any bit of comprehension at all in the mess that was encompassing me. After realizing I had no one else in my life, I was eager to know if Killian could be considered a relevant part of it.
“You’re involved in something you didn’t ask for, Persephone,” Killian said. “I’ll take care of you until things clear up.”
I could smell the citrus on Killian’s body when I took another step closer. The pain of loss and the frustration of not knowing and wanting to escape made me hurt. I saw relief in Killian. I saw comfort in his arms, though I knew I shouldn’t have. He was a Draak. He didn’t want a crying woman wetting his shirt with tears. He was taking care of me out of guilt. He had to be. There was no other reason someone like him would be in my messy house, waiting for me to finish cleaning up. Making calls to take care of my sister’s body.
I held Killian’s eyes, taking another step. I was burning with a need to divert my thoughts toward something distracting, but what I had in mind felt shallow and selfish. I knew I could have given myself to Killian and things might feel a bit less painful, but what kind of person was I to want something like that after such a tragedy? What sort of sister was I to want to escape my grief by turning to Killian for shallow comforts?
“Killian,” I whispered, stopping myself before something shameful passed my lips.
I kept his gaze and after a few moments I could see a slight shift in his expression. He dug deep, feeling my intentions like they were floating in the open. I might have been able to hide my thoughts, but I couldn’t hide my emotions. Without words, I expressed what I wanted and felt guilty for it. Killian’s lips parted slightly with realization, but after a few seconds, he composed himself and turned his body more directly toward me. Concern washed over his face, pulling his black brows together over his eyes.
“Persephone,” he said softly. “What do you need?”
Feeling even more foolish, I let out a long sigh and turned my head to look away, unable to relay my thoughts. I couldn’t say what it was I wanted. It would lower me to a level I didn’t want to be on.
Killian stepped in, his body almost touching mine. Closing my eyes, I dropped my head and tried to contain myself when all I wanted to do was be close to him. Not anyone. Him. I wanted his arms around me. His lips on mine. I wanted his warmth and his presence, but how could I ask for it? When I felt his hand against my cheek, I was already quivering. He lifted my face to look at him.
“I, um,” I faltered, stepping slowly away from him before my urges turned into actions. “I need to get dressed.”
I turned around, making my way down the hall as calmly as possible, one hand holding the towel around me. My heart was thrumming under my palm. My skin was hot and I wasn’t sure if it was out of embarrassment or out of stress. Maybe arousal. Every possibility wasn’t appealing. I denied them all and retreated to my room at the end of the hall. Ironically, it was the least used room in the house and therefore more tidy.
Clothes were in the drawers and in the closet. The bed was made up with beige sheets and a comforter. I hadn’t slept in that bed for days. I often fell asleep on the sofa with the television on, a subconscious part of my brain always waiting up for my sister to come home. The whole house was somehow unfamiliar now that she was really gone. I hated it. I hated the emptiness I felt when I thought about never speaking to her again.
I walked to a dresser near the bed and opened one of the drawers, but nothing made sense. I saw shirts and couldn’t decide which to put out. Such a simple thing and my hands wouldn’t move. Taking a deep breath in an attempt to center myself, I turned toward the doorway where Killian had just stepped up, filling the entire entrance to my room with his tall form. I wasn’t fooling him. I could tell. He was analyzing me where I stood, seeing deeper into my heart than I could myself. I could feel it. I could sense the tug and once more wanted to be close to him.
“I hate this,” I admitted.
“I know,” Killian murmured, stepping further into the room.
He approached me, his gate slow and careful, eyes pulling me in. His presence flooded the room with heat. As he neared, I could feel myself starting to unravel and desperately hoped I wouldn’t fall apart in front of him. Again, that was. He’d already suffered the worst parts of me. The most vulnerable and weighted parts that I never would have shown anyone if I had more control over them.
“You don’t have to come to my house tonight,” he said in a whisper. “Would you like to stay here?”
I slowly shook my head, uneasy at the thought. “Not alone,” I said.
“Then I’ll stay with you,” Killian whispered. “If that’s what you want.”
16
Persephone
. . .
I woke to the sound of steady breathing beneath my ear. Killian’s chest rose and fell with each inhale, the air echoing in his broad chest. I was tangled against him, wearing nothing but a loose night shirt and a pair of yoga shorts, one leg wrapped around his beneath the sheets. He was still wearing his clothes from the day before as if he hadn’t meant to fall asleep with me. His body was relaxed and motionless, his heart a slow, soothing rhythm against my cheek. I slowly raised my head, eyes heavy with lingering fatigue. I didn’t know what time it was, but judging by the faint light coming in from my thin window curtains, it was early.
Carefully, I unraveled my legs from Killian’s and rolled gently out of bed, the heaviness of the previous day still making my muscles sore like I’d just worked them out. I stretched my neck from side to side, brushing my hands over my bent and knotted hair, which hadn’t exactly dried in the most attractive of shapes while I slept.
Standing up, I retreated to the bathroom across the hall and splashed my face with a handful of cold water to wake myself up. After brushing my teeth, I caught myself in the mirror. I was more than a mess. I hadn’t looked so depleted in years. Staring at myself, I could see every little hint of pain in my face. I wasn’t doing very well when it came to hiding it and the idea that it was out for everyone to see only added to the anxiety.
Tying my hair into a ponytail to lazily cover the fact that it was a disaster, I started applying some makeup to my face. I tried my best to subtly veil the dark circles under my eyes and the redness on my lids, but the concealer could only help with the color. There was a weighted look to my entire expression that I couldn’t shake. Frustrated, I finally gave up my futile attempts and turned with a huff to leave the restroom. I jerked the door open, eyes to the floor as I rubbed my brow with my other hand, but as soon as I stepped out, Killian’s figure took up the hall. I jumped, a gasp nearly choking me when I saw him.
“Killian,” I said.
“You alright?” Killian asked, his eyes prodding me with concern.
“Yeah,” I nodded, clearing my throat. “I was just lost in thought. I thought you were still sleeping.”
I stepped past him and back into my room, opening the closet door and flipping the lightswitch just inside it to pick out clothes for the day. I sifted through blouse after blouse, most of which looked like the same piece of clothing with minor color differences or details changed around.Boring, I thought. Uptight. Artemis always tried to throw some color into my wardrobe and I always denied her. Today, though, I was suddenly angry that I’d never listened to her fashion advice.
