stirring.
“I’ve… never seen…”
“Such a mess?” He chuckled and the sound raced along her skin like warm water.
“Such beauty,” she said, too fascinated to care it might be the wrong term.
The boom of laughter he gave said it wasn’t wrong, but funny. His mirth at such a magnitude made her pause. What an exceptional sound and power it had. And those eyes. They glowed with a brilliant blue that reminded her of Grandmother’s special oil jars when placed in the sunlight. Chaos had always loved the jars. Had imagined having a dress like them, one that shined like the glass.
“You’re serious,” he finally said, amazed.
“Yes.” She found it odd he didn’t believe her then remembered he didn’t know she wasn’t one to tell lies. Master had always taught her to speak plainly and directly with him. He detested trickery and word sorcery. “And hungry,” she remembered, her stomach focusing on the food in his lap now.
Chaos watched him stir the food. Then he lifted the spoon and blew on it. She blinked her eyes, wanting to study his mouth. Every part of his face was perfect. His sharp nose, his full lips. Even the hair growing along his jaw accentuated his perfection. He was prettier than any woman she’d ever seen, though she’d not seen but a handful in the Order. Surely the queen was as beautiful. Chaos wasn’t beautiful at all and that had never bothered her. Master said beauty was really a beast in silk shoes and that Chaos was beautiful in her wretchedness. That familiar pride she usually felt came in the form of a sharp pang in her chest. She’d always felt good about who she was and why she was. She was the Order’s Redemptrix, it didn’t matter what she looked like.
When the spoon came her way, she leaned for it, trying not to go too quickly and make a mess. He fed her so very slowly and carefully. She fought the urge to take the bowl and devour it like an animal. She somehow allowed him to take three forevers to empty the delicious contents of the dish into her still ravenous stomach.
“More?”
“Please,” she said. He nodded and Chaos stared again at his mouth. Was it always firm and hard? She searched his eyes now.
“You keep staring at me.”
He stared back at her with an intensity that made her look away. Master stared with hardness like that and she knew to defer to it. She focused on her lap, not liking it with him. There was something much different in the scrutiny of his brilliant gaze. It seemed to see deeper, to see more than she wanted him to. Especially while she sat there like a broken hand-me-down doll. “The food was good.”
“Right,” he said lightly, hurrying off.
She watched him go. He was very strange. Everything he did was strange as well as how he did it. Careful, slow, gentle. It was in such contrast to the harsh lines of his beautiful face. Something dawned on her. Maybe he thought she was handicapped. A lot of people in the town were. “I’m normal. You know.”
The silence that followed made Chaos feel just the opposite. “Of course you are,” he finally said. “Am I making you feel abnormal?”
She chanced a look his way. “You just… treat me like… there’s something different about me.”
“I’m treating you like you’ve been through something very traumatic. I’m just being careful.”
“Of what?”
“Of scaring you? Hurting you? Accidentally injuring you?” He finally came back and Chaos continued to study every aspect of how he moved. The amount of grace in his limbs indicated he was highly skilled in something physical. It could have been anything though. Fighting, dancing. Some sport maybe?
He set the food down just out of her crippled reach then hurried to the far side of the room. He returned, wiping something with his t-shirt. The flash of tan skin over hard muscle beneath the material made her insides jerk with… fear she thought.
He sat and handed the flat square thing to her. “Maybe if you see what I
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