The Program [COMPLETED]

Chapter Fifty-Six

No one spoke for the next few hours.

Perhaps it was because the four of them were locked in an eerie, unannounced vigil of silence, or simply because none of them had anything to say. Hours passed, and eventually night fell.

Aiden was sitting watch on the city hall rooftop, scanning intently at the ground below. He'd picked off a few Other Worlder patrols who'd approached the building, and after a few hours of guard duty, they stopped coming near the structure entirely. He'd left his watch indoors, so as to avoid facing the hologram that would surely appear, reminding him once more of Rania's tragic death. He noticed once he had left his watch that there was a pile emerging where the rest of his friends had done the same thing. It seemed that none of them wanted anything to do with Orion's degrading schemes.

A shuffle of footsteps coming towards him made Aiden twist around, his gun level.

Zariah looked down at the weapon pointed directly at her head, and carefully pushed it aside with her hands. She sat down next to him, following his gaze out into the distance.

"Is my watch over?" Aiden asked hoarsely. His voice was gravelly from the prolonged silence that came from his lack of engaging in conversation with his comrades.

Well, the ones he had left.

"Your watch was over three hours ago," Zariah replied gently. "We thought that you might just push us away if we came to collect you any sooner. I decided to go up anyways."

"You're never one to follow the rules," Aiden remarked.

"But you are," she shrugged.

"Is this you trying to comfort me? Make me feel better about myself?" Aiden said bitterly.

"No," Zariah answered simply. "I think that's impossible. It's been probably a year or so since Rhys died, and I still blame myself for it every single damn day."

"So, what? I'm doomed to end up like you? Hating myself all the time?" Aiden snapped.

He expected her to fire back with a comment of equal heatedness, but to his surprise, Zariah remained calm, unfazed by his harsh words.

"That's part of it," she admitted. "The other part is healing."

"If I'd-"

"No," Zariah glared at him, her face hard. "No 'what if's'. I'll spare you that pain."

Aiden sighed, defeated. It was difficult to beat Zariah at anything. He wouldn't try it today.

"I miss her," Zariah finally said. "I miss Rania, I miss Jayda. I miss them all."

"I miss them too," Aiden agreed, heavy emotion weighing him down and becoming a vile pit in his stomach.

As if by instinct, Zariah reached for his hand. He offered it to her, tracing circles along her palms and drawing lines up and down her arms absently. Her hands were pale in the moonlight, toned with strength and years of discipline. And yet, they were strangely soft, when one would expect that they would be uncomfortably solid. Even now, Zariah Blanche was still a mystery to him.

"I'm scared that I'll lose you."

Aiden glanced at her in surprise. He hadn't expected such a forward statement from her.

"War changes people. It makes them different in ways I can't explain. I can't bear to see it destroy you too," she explained, picking up on his perplexity masterfully.

"Zariah..." Aiden began. He looked at her, his gray eyes tormented and pained.

Before he knew it, she was kissing him, anxious to feel his lips pressed against hers no matter how raw and bruised, drawing him in and breathing in Aiden's very essence. He returned her kiss with just as much fire and passion, entangling himself in all of her, desperate to feel her touch against his own.