Page 86 of In Between Darkness
“It’s clearlynotnothing.”
My first instinct is to follow him, to wrap my arms around him and let him know that he can be vulnerable around me, but I know I am one step away from pushing him away, so I must tread carefully.
“But if you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine.”
His hair is drying now. It no longer looks flat and ebbs with volume. He runs his fingers through it and stares into the distance like he is deep in thought.
“No one wanted the kid with the weird arm.” Are the only words that come out of his mouth. He is still not facing me and somehow looks more tense. “So, no one broke me out of the hell that I was living in.”
He takes a deep breath, and slowly his hoodie begins to rise up the length of his back. “This is why I ran away.”
His hoodie is now on the floor, and I can see his back in all of its blemished glory. I gasp, not being able to hide my disturbance.
“The orphanage did that to you?!” I ask, my face still clearly distressed. I feel a tennis ball-sized lump form in the back of my throat, but I cage the tears from clawing out my eyes.
“If you stepped out of line, you were punished.” He speaks as if he is sure of himself, but he cannot convince me that this is right. “No exceptions for the weird kid with anger issues.”
“That’s awful!” I’m angry that he was subjected to this torture and thinks it is okay. I tighten my gaze to try to find even a centimetre of untarnished skin, but on every inch there is a thick coat of trauma.
“You were just a child? You didn’t deserve that!”
His body becomes a little more relaxed, and he turns to face me, his scars now facing the far wall.
“I was an outcast…” He begins walking towards me again. He puts his hands in his pockets, and I feel the mattress of his bed dip slightly as he sits next to me. “The boy who shouldn’t have survived.”
His thick fingers run through his hair again, and he lets out a small sigh. I can relate to him. My mismatched eyes always secured a target on my back, a reason to be picked on, but I was never abused. Ryder’s harsh exterior is now starting to make sense — why he can never seem to let his guard down for too long, his warmth has been stripped away from him, robbed. Assholes.
“I’m sorry you had to go through that.” My eyes ember with concern as he studies my face, dissecting each freckle as if to judge if my consolations are genuine. “And thank you for telling me. I know it probably wasn’t easy for you.”
I place my warm palm on his shoulder and feel him relax a little more into my touch. He sighs deeply, like he has been holding his breath for years and finally has the chance to let go. If he needs a lifeboat, I will wait in the depths for him to hold on,no matter how rough the waves crash. He was there for me when I needed him, and now I will repay the favour.
“Asha… stop.” He turns his head away. “I don’t want your pity.” He kisses his teeth and puts up his hard exterior again.
Gods this boy is frustrating.
“It made me a man. A fighter… It made me the person who was able to save you today.”
I don’t say much after this because I feel like there is nothing right I can say in this moment. “And now with my Gift no one can ever hurt me again.”
He smirks and brushes off his pain, but I can tell his trauma runs deep. It is ironic that his biggest flaw became his most powerful weapon. I slowly edge up on my knees and shuffle closer to him, admiring the black veins in his arm proudly. They are beautiful, like lightning. The way each vein spiders up his arm, some overlapping and branching out towards his shoulder. I can feel the immense strength and potential emanating through his skin; it makes me shiver. The way he defeated Alex with such ease, the way he picked up River like he was a piece of fluff on the floor. He is a fortress no one can escape. I don’t need to say anything. I know he knows I understand. I trace my fingers over each dark vein and smile. The sensation of his skin on mine only increases my hunger for him. My stomach flutters again, but sadly, this moment is short-lived because he pushes me away.
“We need to make sure that nothing like that ever happens to you again.”
He takes to the floor and beckons me to fill the space in front of him. “Stand up.”
I study his face for a moment to work out whether he is serious or not. His eyes burn through me. Okay, he definitely means it. I wince as I stand, but push through the pain and walkover to him. My bare feet relax on the black carpeted rug in the centre of his room.
“Training starts now,” he says, and a surprised chuckle slips out of my mouth.
“You’re not serious. I’m not exactly in the best shape right now.” I use my hands to gesture up the length of my body, highlighting the areas where each bandage comforts a bruise or burn. He shakes his head.
“You don’t need to be in shape to wield your Gifts.”
He walks over to me and gently grabs my wrists so my arms are extended and my palms are facing upwards.
“If you can learn to master your Gifts at your weakest, when you are at your strongest, you’ll be truly unstoppable.”
He takes a few steps back from me, creating space between us. “Oriah said you have the ability to learn any power, right?”
