Hot, golden rods of it glided in through the fixture in the wall, pouring like melted butter onto the foot of her bed. Midmorning light filled the room, a blend of soft yellow and pale blue.
For a moment, she felt panic flare cold up her veins; she never slept this late, and the sky was never this blue and clear, and there was something so wildly unfamiliar about the colour and scent of sunlight that made her wonder, briefly, if she was dreaming, and if she was trapped, inside this paradise of golden light. But then her chest settled, and she relaxed. She wasn't dreaming. Today was Reaping Day, the factories were shut, and there would be no billowing clouds of ash and smoke to block the sun and the sky out. The Reaping wasn't until two o'clock, and that's why she'd woken so late. The panic went down, sinking inside her chest with relief, and she sat up on her elbows.
Ren was gone. She put her hand to his side of the bed and found it cold, sheets crumpled, his shoes and jacket gone as well. He had left early, of course, for patrol. Her heart twisted painfully inside her chest, like someone had prodded it with something sharp. He had left without saying goodbye. Of course, she tried to remind herself, it had probably been because he hadn't wanted to wake her. She ignored the uneasiness twisting in her stomach and pushed herself up into a seated position, leaning back against the wall behind her.
Almost helplessly she found herself thinking of the night before; of the dancing fire and the flashing heat up her bones, of the naked, unshielded look in Ren's eyes that had opened a door to a Ren she hadn't known, to a Ren she longed to know, and thinking of his words, over and over, still playing in her head like a broken record. You're incredible. You're beautiful. You've always been fierce, stubborn like fire, but beautiful. You're beautiful. Beautiful. He had never spoken like it before, never with such feverishness, with such a lack of control. It had been the first chink in his calm that she'd seen, she realised, and with another pang she remembered that she had let it all slip away.
Did Ren love her? She asked herself, silently. Could he? And did she love him? Yes, she supposed she did, in the way that you loved someone and depended on them like they were your air and without them you were drowning. But that━that could mean anything. A horrible, sinking feeling, sharp like a pinch at the back of her head, told her that maybe she had felt that urge to kiss him for only that. Just to feel what it was like to kiss someone, for once. Not sign a silent contract that said she'd mould and bend and snap herself a thousand ways for him. And, besides, Ren was a Peacekeeper. The law forbade them to marry, to have children, and is that what he wanted? A life with her? How could he? Could he leave it all behind? And could she?
