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Authors: Jane Washington
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hadn’t yet formed into words. “You have no one else to lean on… not in the way you need it. Not in the way your bond needs it.”
His voice was low, but I still shifted in his arms to look over his shoulder. Noah and Cabe weren’t close enough to have heard him, but they were sneaking glances at us as they slowly covered the paintings I had done with fresh paper. I tore my eyes from them because just the sight of the walls had sent a renewed rush of pain vibrating through my body.
Quillan winced, feeling it too. He sank into one of the chairs facing the front of the lecture hall and I made to move from his lap, but he jostled me absently, bundling me tighter to his chest, his eyes fixed blindly to the front of the room. He had lifted me higher, not even realising what he was doing, but it put my face closer to his, and I found myself staring at his mouth, remembering the day before. He had kissed me. He never kissed me.
“Is the bond really that powerful?” I asked, my voice barely there. “Can it really make us feel things that we don’t actually feel?”
He leaned his head back, closing his eyes. He was breathing deeply, evenly, but the rapid thudding of his heart gave him away. “I wouldn’t say that I don’t feel that way about you, Seph.” His throat worked as he spoke. He didn’t want to release the words, but was forcing them out regardless. “I just don’t… want… to feel that way. It’s powerful enough to force me to act on it, and I don’t want to do that either.”
His eyes opened halfway, and I realised that I had been leaning toward him, because there was suddenly only a breath of air separating us. He lowered me a little, settling me back onto his lap, but then suddenly hissed out a breath and stood, dropping me to my feet. He walked back to the paper room, speaking lowly with Noah and Cabe. I turned my back on them all, wishing that someone would stop the song that was still looping on repeat, because the words were eating away a hole inside my chest.
I’ve got chills,
They’re multiplying.
And I’m losing control…
I slapped my hands over my ears, bundling myself into a tight ball as I rocked slightly on the chair, trying to imagine myself away from the situation, aided by the darkness behind my closed lids.The song itself was so absurd to me: the memory of the upbeat, Broadway-style original warring with the slow and haunting rendition that was currently playing. I couldn’t consolidate the two sounds in my head, but that only made me turn to the lyrics again in search of meaning.
You better shape up,
Because you need a man,
And my heart is set on you.
You better shape up,
You better understand,
To my heart I must be true.
You’re the one that I want…
It was going to send me spiraling into a dark trap of insanity if I didn’t put a stop to it soon. I stalked back into the room, squaring my shoulders. They all looked up as I entered, but the fervor had taken a hold of me again, and I couldn’t care less who was there to witness it. My vision of the room became blurred as I stumbled toward the pile of supplies. My hands sifted blindly through, my fingers sensing what I needed as I kept my head up, fixed on a blank spot on the wall, seeing but not really seeing.
“She’ll come. She’ll come to save you , won’t she ?” None of the occupants of the room had spoken the words, but they sounded eerily inside my head anyway.
“Who’s there?” I asked.
“Who’s where?” Cabe answered.
I flinched, because the reply had sounded too close, too real , when I had been expecting the ghost in my head to speak instead.
“Don’t make a sound,” I heard Quillan murmur, as I tried to block out their voices.
“Who’s there?” I repeated, desperately grasping for the now-fading voice.
I fumbled with whatever instruments were beneath my fingers, finding purchase in something resembling a paintbrush and something resembling a wooden palate. I began to spill
His voice was low, but I still shifted in his arms to look over his shoulder. Noah and Cabe weren’t close enough to have heard him, but they were sneaking glances at us as they slowly covered the paintings I had done with fresh paper. I tore my eyes from them because just the sight of the walls had sent a renewed rush of pain vibrating through my body.
Quillan winced, feeling it too. He sank into one of the chairs facing the front of the lecture hall and I made to move from his lap, but he jostled me absently, bundling me tighter to his chest, his eyes fixed blindly to the front of the room. He had lifted me higher, not even realising what he was doing, but it put my face closer to his, and I found myself staring at his mouth, remembering the day before. He had kissed me. He never kissed me.
“Is the bond really that powerful?” I asked, my voice barely there. “Can it really make us feel things that we don’t actually feel?”
He leaned his head back, closing his eyes. He was breathing deeply, evenly, but the rapid thudding of his heart gave him away. “I wouldn’t say that I don’t feel that way about you, Seph.” His throat worked as he spoke. He didn’t want to release the words, but was forcing them out regardless. “I just don’t… want… to feel that way. It’s powerful enough to force me to act on it, and I don’t want to do that either.”
His eyes opened halfway, and I realised that I had been leaning toward him, because there was suddenly only a breath of air separating us. He lowered me a little, settling me back onto his lap, but then suddenly hissed out a breath and stood, dropping me to my feet. He walked back to the paper room, speaking lowly with Noah and Cabe. I turned my back on them all, wishing that someone would stop the song that was still looping on repeat, because the words were eating away a hole inside my chest.
I’ve got chills,
They’re multiplying.
And I’m losing control…
I slapped my hands over my ears, bundling myself into a tight ball as I rocked slightly on the chair, trying to imagine myself away from the situation, aided by the darkness behind my closed lids.The song itself was so absurd to me: the memory of the upbeat, Broadway-style original warring with the slow and haunting rendition that was currently playing. I couldn’t consolidate the two sounds in my head, but that only made me turn to the lyrics again in search of meaning.
You better shape up,
Because you need a man,
And my heart is set on you.
You better shape up,
You better understand,
To my heart I must be true.
You’re the one that I want…
It was going to send me spiraling into a dark trap of insanity if I didn’t put a stop to it soon. I stalked back into the room, squaring my shoulders. They all looked up as I entered, but the fervor had taken a hold of me again, and I couldn’t care less who was there to witness it. My vision of the room became blurred as I stumbled toward the pile of supplies. My hands sifted blindly through, my fingers sensing what I needed as I kept my head up, fixed on a blank spot on the wall, seeing but not really seeing.
“She’ll come. She’ll come to save you , won’t she ?” None of the occupants of the room had spoken the words, but they sounded eerily inside my head anyway.
“Who’s there?” I asked.
“Who’s where?” Cabe answered.
I flinched, because the reply had sounded too close, too real , when I had been expecting the ghost in my head to speak instead.
“Don’t make a sound,” I heard Quillan murmur, as I tried to block out their voices.
“Who’s there?” I repeated, desperately grasping for the now-fading voice.
I fumbled with whatever instruments were beneath my fingers, finding purchase in something resembling a paintbrush and something resembling a wooden palate. I began to spill
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