He glared at the golden fragments, partially wishing he hadn't understood it. Because that was the easier route. Then he glanced back at her, she only learned and latched onto one form of communication. It made sense. And that he got. But... ❝Stop staring like some lost tourist trying to decypher Greek. Open your eyes, see it.❞ He averted his gaze and kept a comfortable distance, all this was strange and new. Course it wasn't that new, he'd been around others, but she was something else. Something he couldn't name. And why father kept planting these seeds was beyond his scope but he wasn't entirely against it. Part of him wanted to just go with it. The other part ignited against the bolt. Who'd strike first?
❈
Zero's chest tightened at the hazy glimmer of reflective gold. It was Father's hand. His message hidden among the outer layers of meaning. He wished he'd been there, he'd shatter the request and just take Loretta's hand, carry the burden anyway. Why was Ren just passengering? Why listen to Father? Why throw away every survival instinct drilled into them? Why didn't he enforce it himself? He shook away the cloud of an impending storm and grasped at the only tether he had. He was as a much a passenger as Ren. More viewer than participant. If anything went sideways, it would, it always would, he couldn't do anything trapped in the in-between. He shouldn't have done this, he shouldn't have made her wonder like this. But if he hadn't she'd be trapped too, wouldn't she? So, was it that bad? And they were searching like it was a grand treasure hunt. They couldn't just give up, even if all he wanted was for Ren to just take her away from all of this.
He dropped his head into his hands, the frost spread through him gathering, burying, smothering. He shook with the inability to escape it. The heaviness of its approach tempted the coiled ball of will. It was the cliff's edge and his arms trembled because he was half-way there, but the drop meant what, defeat? Vulnerability? Fear? Or something else he didn't want to name?
❝Why are there parts of you I can't reach?❞ Vakira's voice dripped and saturated his thoughts with a doze of heat that offered so much and promised little. She was sun and summer, sweet and inviting, with a pull that magnetized him bit by bit.
Her scent cloyed at him, tendrils smoking through his defenses and reaching deeper for the bits he clutched on to. She didn't like secrets she couldn't partake in. She was a nasty floral in bloom, each petal exposing more than she could hold. That's the thing about absorption, you take and you're forced to give. It all just prys apart and you can't filter. Not really. But you can try, with effort, try to hide with all your will. And that's what he could do. Hold on to the fragment. The one thing that held the spotlight of all that was worth keeping.
She stirred and flared with an icy burn. She liked a challenge, it played on her lips, but her eyes held a hard edge to them, adamant. But he kept two moves ahead, if this were a game would she be rattled by the aspect of losing when it seemed like she won?