Giver [hs]

i. prolegomena

[ P R O L E G O M E N A ]

F I V E M O N T H S L A T E R

"Rowan."

His voice was brusque, cutting through Rowan's mind. Her eyes wandered up his rangy body, tall and broad. She settled on his face, which was contorted into a glower. His virescent eyes were seeing her throughout, the white circle rimming his pupil swirling, tearing down any walls she'd built between the two. His eyes flitted to the metal cuff around her wrist which accelerated at an alarming rate, the loud beep proving that her heart was beating faster than usual. He shot an eyebrow up, meeting her eyes.

"Are you scared?"

She pondered on the question. The mint lingered on her tongue from the toothpaste pill she'd chewed moments earlier, and she pressed her tongue against the roof of her mouth. She pulled her eyebrows down before answering slowly, languidly.

"Yes."

The word felt odd and out of place on her mouth; she realized she's never felt this level of fear. Pure, raw, intense fear. Because this time, it wasn't just her life on the line, it was also Harry's.

Obviously thrown off by her answer, he let out a quiet sigh and leaned against the door frame, crossing his arms as he scanned her, sitting in the corner of the black leather chair in her room. A book was resting on her thighs, her finger marking the place where she'd left off. His voice cut through the air, thick and heavy with accent, drawing her attention again.

"You don't have to be scared, Rowan. I will protect you - it's my life's purpose too."

His statement hung in the air between them like a dead weight, the air tangible with unspoken thoughts. Rowan folded the corner of the page down and set her book down, sitting up a little more upright. An uneasy laugh tumbled from her lips before she could stop it.

"Harry, I know. But it's not my life I'm worried about." She frowned, pausing, "It's yours."

Both eyebrows shot up now, his eyes wide with confusion. "Why?"

"You know they hate it when a Giver let's something like this slide - and they don't even know half of it. What we did was a federal crime, Harry. Punishable by death, and I do not doubt that if we make one wrong move they'll ki -"

"Rowan, stop. I hate it when you talk like that. We've been done this before, and -"

"See, Harry? That's the problem. We've done this before. One too many times, probably, and they don't expect you to be so lax about it. If you were anyone else, you would've overdosed me on Rapture by now, but you haven't. They know somethings not right about you, they just don't know you aren't like the rest of them yet. And the second they find out, they'll kill you."