Burning Embers

8

I wake to panic seizing my chest and try to get out of the bed, cursing as I fall to one knee in the dark. Emotions rush stronger than I've felt in a long time, blurring my vision with tears as I try to untangle my leg from Finn's sheets.
Finally I free myself, but I can't make it far before I slump against the door, a sob ripping from my chest.
I don't know why I'm crying, but I know sure as hell I can't make it stop.
Even though I desperately want too.
So I resign myself to the shaking and sobbing, supporting myself with the door.
I can't think.
I rake my shuddering hands through my hair-as best as I can with my curls- before the door shakes against my back.
Finn.
I hear a faint,
"Samara?"
and cover my face with my hands, cursing everyone.
I feel a jolt of worry spike through me, no doubt Zafira.
The doorknob rattles, once, twice, before the
door opens slightly and I feel a whoosh of air, before my weight forces the door back.
I hear fabric rustling and press my hands tighter to my face.
I need to pull myself together.
"Hey." I hear Finn breathe.
A shudder goes through me at the sound of the voice.
God, I can't let him see me like this.
"Get out." I hear the venom in my voice and push the guilt down.
I feel a feather-light brush of his hands on mine and move mine from my face, intending to let them fall onto my lap as I try to explain myself.
Finn doesn't let go.
I stare at the floor, not able to meet his eyes.
"What's going on?" He whispers, crouching in front of me.
He tilts my face up, leaning it back against the door, and drops his hands, grabbing mine.

For a minute I think he might kiss me.
Which is totally unrelated and unbelievably inappropriate, considering the fact we are y cenemies, no matter how sweet he is being right now.
"I'm sorry." I splutter, my voice raw. Half for thinking about kissing him, and of course the fact I'm a mess of the floor of his bedroom.
He sighs, and slides his hands back up my neck, leaving a trail of sparks in their wake as he cups my face.
What is wrong with me?
My brain flashes to the possibility that Zafira is in heat.
"Don't be sorry about anything, okay?" His thumb feathers back and forth across my cheekbone.
I drop my eyes.
He's being sweet because the king ordered him to protect me.
I remind myself of this, steeling my heart.
"You're safe here, okay?"
"I'm not going to let anything happen to you."
He hesitates as I meet his eyes, having hardened my heart.
"I would die for you, Sam."
It feels like he threw my heart of steel into coals.
"Please don't." I huff.
He laughs as I do.
"Do you wanna go flying tomorrow?"
His hands are still on my face, and I watch his gaze dip to my lips.
My stomach seizes, and I force the grin that has won so many crowds over.
"Why not right now?"

His eyes widened.
"I mean, if that's what you want. It's past curfew though."
"Didn't take you for a rule follower."
"Yeah well, I've changed."
"I can tell."
I'm not going to elaborate. Not on the fact that, for the past 6 years, we've never been this close, ever.
Or the fact that he's never been this sweet since the day we got chosen.
Or the fact that this is the longest we've ever gone in a conversation without arguing.
He hesitates a minute before  his hands drop from my face.

He steps back and holds out his hands.
I take them, and he helps me up off the floor of his bedroom, wobbling slightly.
He places a hand at the small of my back to steady me while he swings open the door.

It feels like it scorches a hole in my quarterzip.

Correction, his quarterzip.

It's a little big on me, and I shrug it up my shoulders as I follow him to the side door, the one Zafira shoved her snout through a couple days ago.
"We'll have to be quiet, and quick."
Finn murmurs, glancing back at me as he rests his hand on the door handle.
"Doing what?" I smirk, laughing at his wording.
He rolls his eyes, and turns the doorknob, cracking open the door.
"Ready?"