The Dark [2]

No, You're Not

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CUT ME DEEP, THE SECRETS AND LIES

STORM IN THE QUIET

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ALL RESISTANCE WEARING THIN

NOWHERE TO RUN FROM ALL OF THIS HAVOC

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Tick.

Sophie's eyes flickered to the clock. Twenty minutes.

Tick.

She could feel Fitz's gaze burn her skin, but she couldn't bring herself to meet his eyes.

Tick.

Sophie swallowed her sigh. Nineteen minutes.

Tick.

The table her and Fitz were sitting at was small, but the distance between them felt like an ocean's length. Tiergan looked between the two of them.

"Clearly, there's something you both need to work out, so I'll leave you to it," he said, giving Sophie a look and slipping quickly out of the room.

Tick.

Fitz stared at her, teals eyes forcing her to glance at him before looking away just as quickly. Fitz sighed, leaning forward to set his elbows on the table and interlacing his fingers together. He continued to watch her, his chin resting upon his hands.

Tick.

Sophie's leg bounced restlessly. Her eyes scanned the room, desperately searching for a quick escape. She looked out the window, wondering if it was high enough for her teleportation to kick in, or if she was just going to have to risk the broken leg.

What's going on? a crisp voice asked in her head, promptly interrupting Sophie trying to figure out how long it would take for Elwin to repair her potentially broken bones.

She jumped, throwing up mental walls everywhere and pushing Fitz away as fast as possible.

He frowned, and Sophie followed him into his own mind. She could feel the annoyance washing throughout him and internally cringed.

What's going on? Fitz repeated, this time in his own mind, seeing as Sophie didn't want him anywhere near hers.

Broad question, she transmitted.

Fitz rolled his eyes. With you. What's going on with you?

Sophie swallowed. Loaded question.

Fitz's jaw clenched. Sophie, please. I know there's something wrong. That much is evident.

Sophie watched as his memories bubbled up. Her passing out after getting her shadowflux read. The piercing pain he felt every time he entered her mind. All the times she's left quickly, with absolutely no explanation, and the distance in her eyes when she would reappear.

Some images weren't even memories, just pictures he'd conjured up from things he'd heard. Her, alone, somewhere in the Forbidden Cities. Her hands fastening the cloak she wore when she was the Moonlark, her fingers shaking as she did so. Most prominent, were the things he'd pictured when he'd heard about her most recent battle.

The wind whipping her hair around her face, her eyes hard as she stared up at a smoking tower. She glared down at a cowering man, silver sword tight in her grasp as she raised it, going for the killing blow only to be stopped by Tam.