Page 64 of Waves
Heard Lizza’s voice and Mateo’s pleas. Even Stavros’s whisper. Their words banded together into a tether that kept me from floating off.
They needed me.
I needed them.
Pushing at my limbs, I tried to move, tried to open my eyes, but I couldn’t. Instead, despite my press against it, darkness closed over me.
The next time I pried my heavy eyelids open, it took a minute for the world around me to spin into focus. But once it did, Mateo's concerned face hovered over mine, his silver curls falling across his forehead, one strand turning orange to match the hint of color creeping over his tail. Tears glossed his eyes, and his expression was a mixture of sorrow and pure relief when he saw I was awake.
Immediately, his hand sought mine out. With a warm squeeze of his fingers, he pulled my knuckles to his lips. I blinked vaguely up at him, my head still full of tufts of cotton, my mouth too dry to speak as I slowly realized that we were in a room alone and that everyone else had disappeared.
Mateo leaned down, purple light from somewhere above making the tear on his cheek glint as he bent forward and brushed another kiss over my forehead. A soft, worshipful kiss that felt like a welcome home after a long journey.
I swallowed hard and he seemed to understand innately what I needed, reaching to my bedside for a cup of bubble. He helped prop me up while I took a sip and then continued to gently hold me wrapped in his arms. I soaked up the comfort of his embrace for a few minutes, both of us allowing the simple moment to fill with calm consolation.
"How long have I been out?" I asked weakly, surprised by how hollow my own voice sounded.
"A whole day and night," he responded as he climbed onto the narrow bed beside me and nestled against me on his side.
Shock pierced me, stabbing through the remaining fluff inside my skull. "That long?"
"Yes. The night of the tournament, then the entire day and night after. I—" His voice catches and he takes a moment, staring off, his lips twisted. His pain was as prominent as the ache in my wing. Finally, he glanced back down, expression solemn. "I thought I'd lost you."
Hearing Mateo's admission is the worst sound in all the kingdoms because the heartbreak was so intensely palpable. His loyalty knew no bounds. He'd proved that by risking life and limb to follow me into the sea kingdom and again by entering the tournament despite every law against it.
Though my arms felt as weak as strings, I reached for him. Immediately, he enveloped me in a gentle hug, burrowing his face into my neck. His next words were just a breathy whisper, but they sank into my skin with all the force of a burning brand. "You can't leave me."
The desperation in his tone tugged at me, filling me with guilt over his desperate wait. But there was also a soft sense of relief. Of joy. That I was his and he was so clearly mine and we were still here. Still together.
"Never," I promised, the word harsh against my throat but soothing to say.
“I want to grow old with you, Avia. Old and gray. I want to sit on a balcony with you somewhere and mutter annoyed things about ‘young people these days.’ I want to watch our children grow in your belly. I want to hold them on my shoulders and chase after you as you laugh. I want to float on a raft on the surface and watch a thousand sunsets with you. There are so many moments—I want them all. I thought I’d lost the chance.”
His words warmed me and shattered me at the same moment. They were like a house built of marzipan, sweet and fragile and delicious. So utterly perfect that my teeth ached at the very thought of his confessed wishes. I wanted every single one of those moments too, and despite how weak I was, I tried to clutch him closer.
“I want those too. Desperately.” Because the emotion was so thick that I was practically choking on it, I tried to lighten the mood the tiniest bit. “But you forgot to add that you want to annoy Bloss with me during each visit she makes. Or how we’lltempt Mr. Whelk with treats until he loves us just as much as Keelan. Or the times we’ll have to put our children in the corner but turn our heads to keep from laughing when they’ve painted themselves and the walls orange.”
“Yes. Those. I want those.” His voice caught and he had to clear his throat before he continued. “I forgot to add that I don’t want to miss all the times you’ll throw your hands on your hips and glare me down.”
“Wouldn’t want to miss out on getting in trouble,” I jested.
“Or making up afterward,” he replied. His fingers came to mine and gently traced over my own.
Some moments in life are so beautiful they border on painful, and that was this moment with him. Huddled together in a cave-like room, our shadows merging in the dim light, our souls merging as we made confessions to one another was one of the most profoundly intense experiences I’d ever had. Though every part of me ached, the soul deep confessions we made somehow dug deeper and cut more than any physical wound ever had.
To ease us from that intensity, I added, “You forgot how you and Felipe are going to take me together at the same time, pressed between you both.”
“Are we?”
I nodded against him. “Absolutely.”
His chest shuddered against mine once before I heard him take a slow breath and tuck away whatever latent agony he had, wrap the worry into a package and set it aside. His head lifted from mine and he propped himself up on one elbow as he smiled gently down at me. "What can I do? Are you hungry?"
"Not yet. I need..." A blush came over me, but he guessed immediately at my needs and helped me hobble to a latrine attached to the humble room I was in. When I finished and emerged, he was there to take my elbow.
I sagged into him as I asked, "Where am I? And where is everyone else?" I couldn't quite bring myself to ask how everyone else was doing. Selfishly, I wasn't ready for that information just yet. If he hadn't volunteered it, I knew it couldn't be good—any good at all given the strength of that whirlpool.
"We're at Joltlee's house. She's a very sweet siren who can cook up a storm." Mateo helped me back into bed before he perched on the edge, facing me. There were bags under his eyes deeper than any I'd ever seen before. Though he was closest to my age of all the men, the strain and stress were clearly wearing on him, visible in the slump of his shoulders. It made him look far older than he was. I definitely felt older than I was.
