Page 12 of Guiding Desire
He groaned. “Just Senlas.”
Orrey nodded and trudged toward the couch. The moment he sat, he wanted to fall back, sink into it, close his eyes for a moment so his raging headache would ease. Luckily, he still had the wherewithal not to end up like that on a Guardian’s couch.
The Guardian in question had walked over to the kitchen counter, just another part of the open space to the right of the entrance. It didn’t really make sense, seeing a Guardian in the kitchen, nor did this apartment feel like a single person would be comfortable living here. It was too big for that.
And yet. Orrey watched, and with every cabinet that opened without being touched, with every floating plate, his amazement grew.
In short order, the Guardian came back over, handing Orrey a large glass filled with a mix of ice cubes, water, and the mildly spicy fire berries that were mostly used in Northern cooking.
Guardian Senlas placed a square tray with smaller plates heaped with a selection of dishes next to Orrey, pickled litmes, thick tara leaves that were perfectly ripe, sorono hummus with three-color crackers. It really was the kind of thing you might eat on a first date.
“I really meant it about not being interested in sex,” Orrey said before clamping his mouth shut. He was normally more diplomatic than that.
“And I said I understood that,” Guardian Senlas said, though he said it with a frown. “Drink that.”
And with that, he walked off. Orrey watched his receding back, those broad shoulders.Maybe someone like him does need all this space.
With nothing much better to do, Orrey started on the drink. He’d planned to just take a few sips since he didn’t want to appear ungrateful or greedy, but the moment the water hit his tongue, the thirst fully registered, and he had the glass empty before he could stop himself, the flavor of the berries making the water taste even fresher and adding a spicy note.
He lowered the glass with a contented sigh just to see Guardian Senlas approach him again, this time around with his suit jacket off and a first aid kit in his hands.
He sat next to Orrey. “Nope, don’t look at me. Look out the window. I’ll put a burn patch on that neck of yours.”
“Oh, that’s not necessary. It’s not a burn, just some sun.”
The Guardian narrowed his eyes, and his hand jerked as if he wanted to pinch the bridge of his nose again. “Eyes to the window. Now.”
Orrey obeyed. In part because he didn’t know how not to when a Guardian gave the order, in part because he was tired, hurting, and confused as if the rest wasn’t bad enough already.
Orrey heard the first aid kit being opened. The buttons on his uniform jacket opened of their own accord, and the collar was pulled back. The burn patch brought cool relief, and Guardian Senlas attached it with surprising gentleness for hands that were so big. Orrey frowned at the view without really looking.When did I take note of the size of the Guardian’s hands exactly?
Orrey turned back once the pull on his collar released, once the fingers left his neck, although he could have sworn Guardian Senlas’s touch lingered.
“Thank you.”
“Didn’t do anything. You should try the food. My aunt tricked me into giving her access to this place, and now she stops by to leave food in the fridge while also still taking time out of her busy schedule to complain that I excel at ordering out.”
“I…see,” Orrey said.
The Guardian frowned. “Fine. It’s not like I’m actually good at this sort of thing. First of all, this is not a joke or some elaborate seduction method or whatever else you have cooked up in that thoroughly overheated head of yours.”
“Excuse me?”
Guardian Senlas pointed at Orrey’s face. “Overheated on account of the sun’s what I mean. Which you shouldn’t have been in for that long, but that’s beside the point. Follow my words. You are a Conduit. I touched you. I imprinted. Are you following?”
“But…no. I’m really not.”
Now, Guardian Senlas did pinch the bridge of his nose. “You are going to have to get past this. We’ll clear up how this happened—how you weren’t properly tested as a kid—but the present remains unchanged. Tell me yes or no: are you clear on what imprinting is?”
“N-no?”Not exactly.
“It’s one-sided, Guardian to Conduit. Doesn’t close your ability to buffer or channel someone else’s charge off them, but it means between you and I, it’s a perfect synch rate for channeling. You’re a protector, so you know what that means, in legal terms, yes?”
“No,” Orrey said, not meaning it as negation but as denial. “I’m…you called me protector. This isn’t real.”
“I wanted to get you out of Central and away from my idiot teammates, those Covenant-blessed asses. I get why Col had your buffer response tested, but that was over the top, and an imprint is filed quickly. It puts you under my custody-ship, which is why I’d like for you to move past denying reality so we can talk about how to adjust to it.”
The world was turning, closing in, the fluffy couch seeming too fluffy all of a sudden. Conduit custody-ship was taught in school. Orrey had learned it as one of the pillars in place to protect Conduits and Guardians both, and what protected those two groups protected everyone.
