Queen of The Reach

18

Loving will always be my downfall. It has left me cold as the ice that traipses beneath my achromatic skin. Even still it holds me back. Loving tied me to this place, to the people stowed away in their perceivably quintessential lives.

Loving set my skin on fire where he touched me tenderly. Being gentle was a curse. Everything we were was a lie, but that doesn't mean I don't hope it was real. I want my favourite brown eyes to give my crimson glare their undivided attention. I want to tell him how he took away my life while I remained alive. I want to tell him how he killed every kind of forgiveness I imagined possible. I want to scream so he'll finally hear me. I don't forgive you.

The sun was coming up, dark skies were stained pink as it rose over the horizon. Ryker's nose was a little rosy from the morning cold. We stood inside the doorway, he with his arms wrapped tightly around him and I enduring the temperature, fearless to its threats.

"I should probably grab a few things..." I trailed off, not meeting his gaze that I felt searching for mine.

"What do you need?"

I thought about his question for a moment. I wanted a cannister for water, food for at least a week, warmer clothing, and Wallace H. Niram's book of Obelyn oddities. I needed a bag to carry it all in and after that I just needed myself, not Ryker, not Velum, and neither Lou's company was necessary. "I'll just grab the things myself."

"I'm not letting you out of my sight," Ryker was intimidating, towering over me and leaving me feeling trapped.

"I don't need a bodyguard, thanks," I tried my hand at being cold. Friendliness would only make him crave my presence more.

"I'm aware of that, Crimson. What you do need is a friend." Ryker hit me where it hurt. Of course I could use someone by my side, but not him. He made me feel too many things all at once. He made me smile, he broke through the chilling exterior, he made me feel hopeful. He made me weak.

"What I need is for you to stop pretending you know me better than I know myself. Let's be honest, we could go our own way and forget each other in no time."

"Stop thinking you're worthless. God damn, what happened to you?!" Ryker raised his voice, angry. Why did he care?

"Nothing, Ryker." He didn't need to know about my past, I hardly knew a thing about him. I could feel the darkness that swept through my bloodstream, even beneath the ice, it stayed. It tempted me to give in, to give up, to let it swallow me whole.

"This is a home at least," he tried to reason with me.

"I am not confined by your ideality that a home consists of four walls with a roof over your head and a bed for sleeping." I looked everywhere but at him, at the copper walls and the tattered brown sweater he wore with Lucille's noticeable handiwork. I pretended I didn't see his groomed blond hair that reminded me of my broken heart. I ignored his blue eyes like the open sky.

"It's not a home because it's a structure, Crimson," he spit my name out this time. I was getting under his skin. "It's a home because of your family."

"Maybe I'm better off on my own." I said what I was thinking aloud.

"You aren't," Ryker fought me still. "Something is haunting you, why won't you let me in?"

I felt as though I could cry. I was reminded of Carter coming home in the middle of the night, I'd stayed up so late that time passed into the next day and it was almost time for me to leave for work before he came back. I'd asked him where he was and he could hardly look at me. He'd been drinking, I could smell the alcohol on him when I crossed the room to stand before him. He kept his brown eyes, oh how I loved when they saw me, trained on the refrigerator and he helped himself to another beer. "What's wrong with you?" I'd asked him while his cold drink fizzled as he popped the cap.