Shatter (The Daevas #1)

9 • Gripped

"Venise," Roman started, once we took a curb on the left. The streets were getting a little clearer now, as we exited the forest, and little commercial buildings started to show visibly in the wintery scene. We didn't speak for a whole forty minutes, and things were starting to get a little awkward for me. The silence was just too much. But now, I knew that it was getting too awkward for Romab too.

"I didn't mean to insult or offend you the last time we spoke," he said quietly, staring down the driveway. I looked at him, my hands clutching the seatbelt for a little burst of confidence. He didn't actually look like he was sorry that much but I thought he was trying his best to swallow down his pride.

"It's fine," I murmured truthfully. I wasn't angry with him anymore, somehow. It was like all the things he said to me had vanished from my mind, and that I didn't know what he was apologizing for anymore. I forgot all about it."

He sighed. "No, you haven't. I haven't been that nice to you since you started living with us."

"No, really, it's okay," I said quickly. "In fact, I should say sorry to you, because the things I said to you last time we spoke was...unforgivable, if you ask me."

"No, you were right about that," Roman agreed, glancing at me. I was surprised. "All that you've said are true. Ever since...my parents died...it's like everything around me's been different. I mean, I loved them, and I wasn't usually a brusque kind of person -- well, (coughs) not that much as before, anyway. And when you said those things...I started to think about those words you told me about my parents being disappointed in me. And it hit me good in the chest, considering your hatred for me."

I smiled at him a little sadly. I wanted to reach over and lay my hand on his arm but I was afraid he'd shrug it off or, worse, I'd pry into his past again. He surely wouldn't be happy about that.

"I don't hate you, Ronan," I muttered benignly. "I just don't understand why you hate me so much, that's all." I looked at the side-view of his profile, tilting my head. "Why do you hate me so much?"

He glanced at me again, and this time, he looked at me as he said, "I don't exactly hate you. It's just that, I don't like having strangers around. Ever since Mon and Dad died, everything really changed a lot. Before, our home always held grand parties, and we had plenty of guests in the house; we often had friends over, but ever since they died, things got so lonely and bitter. And now, every time people asked about how they passed away, things turn a little unpleasant for them when we answer their questions. In fact, we don't answer them. But when we do, you probably know how we go." He cleared his throat.

"Full of spite?" I said, not missing a single beat.

He nodded gravely. "Full of spite," he confirmed.

I was feeling a lot better when he told me all of this. Roman seemed to be the kind of guy who'd never lie. He was secretive and moody, that was for sure, but when he wanted to answer you, he'd be honest. This was practically a private matter, and Roman was telling it to me. I wanted to tell him how deeply sorry I was, but I thought the better of it. I didn't think he wanted my sympathy at all. He just needed to let it out to someone.

"It's nice talking to you, Venise," Roman said slowly, trying to measure the words he was saying to me, like that was the strangest thing he'd ever said in his life. Like it was an alien phrase on his tongue.

I felt the blood rise up my cheeks, and it made my eyes kind of water, so I looked away from him. "Thanks. It's nice talking to you, too."

I thought my eyes were fooling me because he actually smiled. It wasn't much -- it was more of a smirk, really -- but it was devastating.