Cinders [Completed]

Chapter 43: Ashes to Ashes

Eventually, time starts moving again.

1 Week After Dad escapes, everything is still in a vacuum. I spend as much time as I can with Lucy. She hides it, but I can tell she's afraid. Jonah is with her, often. I feel that something has broken between them, a remaining wall that had tumbled down.

I also visit Mom. I don't know if I've really fully forgiven her; I don't know if I ever will. Sometimes I ask her about the Order, searching for more information, but sometimes we just talk. It's on my second visit she asks about the mating blade.

I silently hold it out to her, handle first. With quivering, scarred hands, she holds it.

"It is heavier than I remember." This is all she says.

I wonder if I should give it back to her. But when she hands it to me, she rubs her hands together like they're dirty.

Orion hovers. He was obviously lying about thinking Dad may not be after me. I start to understand, a little, Orion's irritation with his guards. They're protecting me, but it makes every room feel a little claustrophobic. I miss being alone.

But when I'm alone, in my room, at night, it feels crushingly lonely. That's when the nightmares come; replayed scenes from my childhood, twisted and strange, fuzzy but burning. When I wake, from these, my back prickles with remembrance of pain.

It's only been a few days since he escaped, but the fact that we haven't found him yet keeps me so on the edge I can't focus on anything. By day four, I'm so tired from it it takes me several minutes to notice that Orion is acting weird.

When my brain finally kicks in, I notice how Orion's hands are moving in strangely jittery patterns, straightening his shirt and running through the back of his hair. He avoids my eyes.

"Orion?" I say, concerned.

His dark eyes finally catch mine. He swallows.

"Lee," he begins, and then stops.

"What is it?" I ask gently. It's strange, to see him floundering. He looks like this is almost paining him.

"I am about to ask something of you."

I look at him expectantly.

"Please," he says. His voice is strangely forced, scratchy and nervous. "Please tell me you'll move into my wing. Please. Goddess, you can't be that far away. Or I - could I sleep in your room? Please. I can't - I need to be closer to you. I know it's weak and illogical and ridiculous but I think about you, so far away, and I can't breathe."

"Move into your wing?"

Orion seems to be relieved that I hadn't shot him down right away.

"The guest bedroom, next to mine. That way - I'll be right there, if something happens. You'll be safe."

I take a moment to contemplate a new thought. Then, before I can get embarrassed about the thought, I say, "Why don't I just move into your room?"

Orion freezes. His face flushes. He opens his mouth, but then he closes it again, miming a sentence without words.

"It's just," I continue, suddenly nervous, "I guess - I guess I would end up, there, you know, eventually, and it seems silly, to, to move twice."