Every Rose Has It's Thorn

Every Rose Has It's Thorn Pt 17

Word Count 2,466

The revelation hadn't gone without surprise - mostly my own. Whilst Emma's eyes lifted ever so slightly at my admission, I found that my skin was on fire. Not literally of course. No, the fire was emanating from every pore, every inch of skin was tingling with my emotions and I felt as if I were about to explode. Before I could get control of myself, the mirror on the wall behind me rattled and crashed to the floor, shattering into pieces around my feet.

"I'm sorry," I managed to squeak to Emma just as the floor beneath me cracked. I jumped and managed to send the plate of breakfast flying against the bed, missing Emma by a hair width.

"Calm, child," She spoke, to my surprise she got to her feet and her hands moved down across my shoulders and the top of my arms. "Breathe," She mimicked the action, drawing a slow breath in and blowing it out from between her lips a few seconds later. I closed my eyes, unable to lock eyes with her as embarrassment warmed my face and neck. Reluctantly, my muscles still aching from the tension, I tried to follow her instructions and began breathing in sync with her.

I wasn't sure how much time had passed by the time I had opened my eyes again but as my vision cleared, I gladly noticed that Emma didn't look angered or afraid. Instead, she held a sort of curiosity - in fact, the expression reminded me slightly of Colson, the first time he had witnessed my powers.

"See," She smiled, "You're in control, not your emotions."

"I can't be so sure about that," I scoffed as her hands left my arms and she moved back from me. My muscles were still tense, I could feel sinew and nerves stretching and pinging beneath the surface.

"I would like to teach you some things, if you will allow it," Emma stated, matter-of-factly, her voice still carrying that warmth and calmness that seemed to be so good at settling my nerves.

"I couldn't ask you to do that," I replied, bundling my hands together to stop myself doing any more damage.

"You didn't," She smiled. "My son did."

I frowned, trying to consider why Rook would have asked such a thing of his mother, given the hassle I'd caused at Colson's sentencing and the stress she was presumably under as a result.

"Rook oversteps, occasionally," I allowed myself a curt laugh to lighten my words, "I honestly...I'm getting better. I can handle this."

Emma's delicate fingers moved a strand of golden hair from in front of her eyes before she spoke again. "I wasn't talking about Rook," She paused, allowing me some time to process what she'd said.

"Colson asked you to help me?" My question hung around in the air for what felt like a lifetime, it was almost as if Emma had thought my question to be rhetorical.

"He was quite persistent," She moved from her seat on the bed and wandered across to look out the window. "It was part of the reason I was so curious to meet you face to face. Colson doesn't usually take an interest in things unless they have some use to him, for one of his schemes as my husband so graciously puts it." Emma scoffed and turned her head to look back at me.

"It seems my son...he genuinely wants to help you. Unpredictable and powerful would usually be something he would wish to cherish, keep close. Yet he asked me to help you find an anchor, find the strength to hold yourself back when necessary. It appears to me he truly, wholly cares about you and your happiness here. Even if he is not a part of it."

Had it not been for my surprise, tears would've pricked at my eyes at such a statement.

"Is there a way I can talk to him?"