Shadows Bleed

XXI

XXI

The first thing to escape my lips when I awoke the following morning was a hoarse groan. My eyes opened with a rebellious squint against the morning sun while I grasped my head with stiff hands. Another side-effect of inebriation, apparently, was a tremendous headache. A headache which was only amplified when, upon rolling over, I saw Shimei sleeping soundly beside me.

I desperately attempted to recall the events of the past night but managed only to hazily remembering snippets. I had tried to stand but collapsed. Shimei caught me and insisted on carrying me to my room. I remembered being slouched in his arms, the painted walls of the manor passing by in a blur as we walked. And then nothing. I could recall nothing after that. I needed answers.

My arm shot out from under the sheets, hand forming a closed fist and connecting with Shimei's shoulder. He jolted awake, swiftly transitioning from a horizontal to vertical position.

"What is it?" he asked, eyes dancing around the room, wary of danger.

"You tell me," I hissed back. "What in the blazes are you doing in my bed?"

"I think that's going to bruise," he grumbled, rubbing his shoulder. I hit him again. Harder. "Hey!"

"Tell me," I insisted. "Did we, you know..."

"What?" he looked baffled, but only for an instant. "Goodness gracious, no! We did not."

"Oh thank Avar," I exhaled a long breath and slumped back against the bed head. "If that's not the case, what are you doing in my bed?"

"You didn't want me to leave last night," he explained, looking hurt. I may have been too quick expressing my relief that our sleeping arrangements involved keeping our clothes on. "You asked me to stay. So I did."

"Did I try to..."

"Let's just leave it at 'nothing happened', alright?"

"Okay," I replied. His internal conflict was clear to see. It must have been hard for him to be around me, feeling the way he did. I thought I made the right decision in rejecting his advances. Now I wasn't so sure.

"Shimei," I started. I didn't know what I was going to say, the words dying on my lips.

"Yes?" he lifted his head, a glimmer in his eyes. My stomach tightened. How long would things go on like this?

"Never mind," I finished and slipped back under the sheets, staring at the wall opposite me with no idea how I truly felt, much less how to deal with such feelings.

***

The following month passed much the same as the first had. My days were spent in training, strengthening my body for the trials ahead. I still went riding with Shimei throughout the weeks but our conversations became more clipped, less natural, as time passed.

My habits in the evenings saw a radical shift from the first eight weeks of my time in the Isles, prior to Thyssia. My experiences following that first night of drinking should have alerted me to the dangers of such a vice but I found there to be a soothing comfort in the bottom of a bottle that could not be found elsewhere. So I would spend my evenings with a bottle in one hand and a glass in the other. Shimei took it upon himself to retrieve me from the lounge room in the wee hours of the morning, after I had long since passed out, and carry me to my bed.

Occasionally he would arrive earlier to sit and listen while I blabbered about whatever was on my mind. Rarely delightful things, I'm sure. I hardly remembered the following day what it was I would speak of to him, and he never reminded me.

It was on one night, only one week before I was due to return to the Imperium, that he joined me in the lounge much earlier than usual, while I was still clinging to sobriety. He sat on the sofa across the room from and to the right of me, in silence.