hearts of metal

xv. his name was sam

Aelin awoke with his name on her lips. She woke with the lingering image of his body strewn across a cold metal table and a lingering feeling of dread hanging over her.

She pulled herself out of bed, finding it to be far too early at around 5 a.m. The house was silent as she trekked downstairs, her footsteps sounding lightly. As she made her way to the kitchen, she found a lone figure already there.

Lorcan turned to face her, eyes shadowed. "What are you doing here?"

"I live here," she shot back. "What are you doing here?"

He turned away again. Aelin noticed a bruise on his cheek, even in the dim light of the kitchen. His knuckles were cut, drops of blood falling onto the counter.

Aelin's mind warred between curiosity and the urge to simply turn away and leave. Instead, she grabbed some paper towels and handed them to the man.

He took them silently.

"Are you always up this early?" she asked, taking a seat on a stool, a couple of feet down from him.

"Yes."

"Man of many words, I see," she said.

He scowled. "Fuck off."

"Is there a particular reason you're brooding in the kitchen at 5 in the morning?" He didn't answer. "Do you want me to get someone?"

"No," he interrupted, looking suddenly startled. He schooled his face back into neutrality. "No need."

She raised an eyebrow. A few seconds passed, and she strolled out of the kitchen in silence.

Aelin made her way to where she knew the first aid kit was stashed, courtesy of a paranoid Aedion, and grabbed it on her way back to the kitchen.

Lorcan didn't acknowledge her at first, only looking up once he heard the clatter of the kit against the counter.

"What is that?" he asked skeptically, as she fished out some disinfectant and bandages.

"Give me your hand."

"Fuck no."

"Don't be a dumbass," she answered.

When his hand reluctantly slid an inch over to her, she dabbed some disinfectant onto the cuts. He didn't even blink. Next came the bandages which she did hurriedly, then retracted her hand.

"Why were you up anyway?" he asked gruffly, pulling his hand towards him.

"Couldn't sleep." She shrugged nonchalantly, fixing her gaze on the marble counter in front of her.

At first, he didn't answer. "Me neither."

She sent him a startled glance. "I think this is the first time you've ever willingly talked to me, Salvaterre."

He rolled his eyes. "Don't get used to it."

"But I cleaned you all up," she said, batting her eyelashes at him. True to her goal, it only made him grit his teeth in annoyance.

He mumbled something under his breath.

"What was that?"

"Thanks," he mumbled, slightly louder.

She patted him on the shoulder and turned to leave, purposely ignored his muttered "bitch" as she walked through the doorway. Despite herself, she couldn't help the small smirk as she made her upstairs.

Aelin slept on and off for two hours, before giving up and kicking off the covers. There was no point. She couldn't shake the images of Sam that left her trembling.