Subjugated

Chapter Four: Gray

 I jump up. I'm so tired, both physically and mentally, from the walking and from sparring with Desmond, that I'm ready to slap whoever woke me . I'm shocked when I see Desmond standing above me.

    "What do you want?" I snarl.

  "Well, you know, we were talking today," he says.

   I cut him off. "I wouldn't call that talking. I would call it fighting, because certain people decide to hate people without even getting to know them," I say.

  "I'm trying to make amends, and you're just getting angry at me! I just wanted to know-" he says.

 Once again, I cut him off. "I'm jumping down your throat? First of all, this is coming from the boy who barely knows me, yet called me a "lousy swine".  Second of all, why should I listen to you when you haven't said anything worthwhile the whole day AND you're waking me up when I'm trying to sleep," I say.

   When I see his face, I immediately regret what I said and see that he was serious about making amends. His stance isn't as cocky or confrontational. The dark curtain of hatred that usually clouds his eyes has been lifted, and behind that curtain, is actually really pretty eyes. Pretty, sad green eyes.  He looks...vulnerable. Sad. I'm shocked. I've never seen him like this. I've never seen him so....human. I bite my lip, nervous, unsure what to say.

    "Listen, I'm sorry," I stammer, choking on my words. Even now, when he looks so sad, I can't believe that I'm apologizing to him for something.

  He nods. "You're forgiven," he says flatly. "You're right. I haven't been the nicest. I'm just annoyed that my parents are shoving me with someone who I disliked."

 I note how he also is practically choking on his words, and how he said disliked, in past tense. I wonder what caused this change of heart, but then again, I never questioned his perpetual surliness, so I won't question his change.  

    But I do ask, my voice barely above a whisper, "Why did you dislike me?"

  "Listen, people in general annoy me. Everyone runs around talking about frivolous things like whether the king's new cloak is ermine or fox, yet most of them could put that time to good use by working to put more than crumbs on the table. Then they complain  It frustrates me. But you, you annoyed me particularly because I'm used to putting people in to categories, good or bad, mostly bad. I see the world as black and white. But you're gray. You're...different. You don't fit. It's frustrating. You're just..." he says

 I look at him, shocked. "Wait. You hate me because I don't fit in to one of your little boxes? You're even more ridiculous than I thought you were!" I exclaim.

  He holds up his hands in protest. "Wait, wait," he says,  "I've realized the error of my ways. I realize that I perhaps like the fact that you're different. Usually, people don't retort when I insult them. It's nice to have someone answering back, challenging, arguing. I like your attitude, your spunk," he says.

 I shuffle around awkwardly beneath the thin blankets the inn gave us. "Well, thank you, I guess," I say uncomfortably.

 He clears his throat. "What I originally wanted to ask you was if you wanted to go for a walk. I couldn't sleep," he says.

 "Fine," I say, rising to my feet. I feel suddenly self-conscious about my torn, thin nightgown. We walk out in to the cool, still night. The stars sparkle, like diamonds on velvet. I look up for a moment, then we venture out to the forest that lies beyond the inn. We walk in silence for a while.

 Then, Desmond breaks the silence and says, "You know that it could probably be considered scandalous that we're walking together?"

 I nod. "So what? I mean, until two seconds ago, we hated each other. We don't have any feelings for each other."

He nods, but he has a far away look. Suddenly, it hits me.