Page 22 of Adoringly, Edward
Even in the darkness, he noticed the color rising to her cheeks.
“Play?” she asked breathlessly.
Happiness bloomed in his chest by simply being in her presence as he crossed his room and threw open the doors of a floor-to-ceiling cabinet stuffed to the brim with rows of books, games, and a variety of musical instruments. More books were hidden beneath his bed, but he decided not to overwhelm her too much.
“Name your pick.”
He watched as she approached the cabinet with a curious expression, her strong but feminine fingers trailing over the spines of his books, almost reverently.
“Read me a story.” She glanced up from her perusing and met his eye in the dim light. “Just like when we were children.”
A smile lifted on his lips as he threw aside one of his pillows to grab the very same fairy tale book they’d read countless times as children. The spine hung by a thread, and numerous pages had come loose from the binding, only kept in place by pure determination and a little bit of luck.
“According to you…” She laid out a blanket on the ground and set the lantern directly in the middle. “That is an extremely well-loved book.”
“Oh, it is. I read it often.”
“Why?”
But he didn’t answer her question as he snatched the comforter from atop his bed and threw it over the both of them, trapping them inside a dark tent illuminated by a single lantern. The candle cast shadows across Vivienne’s face and flickered as it threatened to give out. But there was just enough air to give it life. Just enough to keep it burning.
Vivienne giggled as she scooted closer until her foot rested against his leg. He should have pulled away, to place distance between them. But he was so lonely. And even the small touch made him feel not quite so alone anymore.
It was pathetic. He already knew that. But for just a short time, he could enjoy her company.
If they didn’t take it too far like last time.
Edward cleared his throat, giving her a serious stare as he opened to a well-worn page in the book. But then he broke out a silly voice as he read the first line.
Vivienne fell over in stitches, laughter erupting from her mouth. And when he read the next few lines, her laughter only grew louder.
“Shh!” he hissed, a grin spread across his face as he pressed his finger to her lips. “Someone will hear you, and your climb up the wall will all be for naught.”
“All right, all right.” She took a deep breath and straightened her spine. “You make me laugh too much. I will read it.”
But as she carefully took the book from him, she deepened her voice and made a hilariously comical face. The moment she read the next line,hebroke into laughter, holding his stomach when he could not keep his amusement contained.
“Hush!” she hissed right back, now placing a finger againsthislips. But it didn’t quite have the same effect. Because his stomach fluttered, and his heart skipped, and her beautiful brown gaze held him captive. They were not the same people as they had been years ago. No longer children. No longer innocent of the world. Yet at the same time, their friendship remained. Playful. Optimistic. Easy. But with an underlying emotion tying their souls tightly together.
“This is a bad idea,” he voiced out loud, not for the first time. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“And what is so wrong with my company?” she huffed, dropping her hand and giving him an adorable pout. “Am I so unbearable to be around?”
“It’s not your company I’m concerned about.” He threw his arms up as much as he could when confined beneath the sheet. “Your father is going to murder me. You have to go.”
“Iknewyou were scared of my father. Is that all it is?”
He pressed his lips together, saying no more. He felt torn in every direction between what he wanted, his fear of others, and the certainty that she would never choose him if she learned the truth about him.
Her voice cracked. “I need to know you are all right. I am concerned about you. I’m terrified that if I leave this tower, I won’t see you again.”
“Vivi…” he murmured. The declaration of her concern warmed his heart in ways he didn’t know he could experience. The selfish part of him refused to let go. At least for now. Tomorrow, he would fight against his unrealistic dreams again. But tonight, he couldn’t bring himself to raise the sword.
Without another word of argument, he took the book of fairy tales back and settled it over his lap. “No more giggling,” he warned, pointing a finger at her.
She locked her lips closed. “I will be quiet as a mouse.”
He began reading from the book once more, this time keeping his silly voices at a minimum. Until the candle flickered out, and the two of them drifted off to sleep side by side on the floor as if they were children again.
