Troubled amusement graces his features, lightening the conversation. ‘Something like that.’ Maybe it is different. He’s spent his whole afterlife searching for this person; I guess it’s difficult to accept that things aren’t the same as they were before. The following silence feels loud and the air thick. William shifts, purposefully making noise to break the still. ‘For a child that was once mute, he sure talks a lot.’
I look up. ‘Xander? That’s hard to believe. He does nothing but talk now.’
Will confirms with a nod accompanied by a gentle smile. It’s a charming gesture I haven’t seen before.
‘Will, you have a different way about you when we’re alone.’
He blinks stunned, silent, as if he didn’t quite listen past his name. The smile drops. His stare lengthens. The undivided attention devours me whole. I’ve tread against the invisible line, dipped a toe into the upside down. The boundary that is always apparent in our conversations falters, I didn’t know it could falter. I don’t think he did either. The line now seems weak, bendable, breakable. I tear my gaze away, a different, more intense fear growing. I step forward, fumbling for words, anything to shatter the mood. Our relationship doesn’t allow for deep conversations like this no matter how much it craves for it.
‘I-I mean, not in a bad way. It’s just something I’ve noticed. Like maybe you’re more – I don’t know. You… or something?’ This is worse. This is definitely worse. Maybe I should just stop talking instead.
Will remains expressionless, consequently adding to my anxiety. ‘Siara.’ My heart races at the sound of my name.
‘Sorry – even I don’t know. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I like you when you’re like this.’ My voice squeaks out an octave higher than normal.
Wait. No. That’s not what I meant to say. This is going all kinds of wrong. I glance up sharply in embarrassment, wondering if he notices. Of course he notices. He’s a demon. He notices everything. I avoid eye contact as if that would somehow help, resorting to sitting down on the couch defeated, head in hands. I sigh loudly. What is wrong with me today?
The ramble is met with a low humoured chuckle. ‘Just when I’m like this?’
My heart skips a beat. Swallowing hard, I feign a similar banter. ‘Of course and barely even then.’
The ice demon chuffs lightly. ‘If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were beginning to warm up to me.’
I smirk, keeping the game going. It’s our only way out of this conversation. ‘Well, it’s lucky that you know better then, isn’t it?’ My words are playful and purposefully distant. It’s all light-hearted and it’s all not real. Superficial banter. I scuttle into the kitchen, closing the door behind me lightly and lighting the gas stove for the kettle. Safe at last.
I release a long breath. What the hell was that? That exchange felt different, more exciting. I lean against the counter, the sound of simmering water swimming pleasantly in my ears as if attempting to drown out any useless thoughts. ‘If only I knew better.’ I sigh. It seems one slipped through. Squealing steam fills the room and I look up to see Will standing at the door. I frown. When did he get here? He must’ve followed me to say something so why does he look so…
Heat flushes to my face like wildfire. I turn off the gas and the whistling fades. He heard me. Of course he heard me, he can hear everything. ‘That’s not what I meant,’ I say quickly. Will’s eyes stare, an amber-infused hazel instead of their usual cool blue. I pause. Those eyes; I’ve seen them before. When? When was it? The air rushes out of me.
‘Will, your eyes…’ It was then, in the canyon. Kneeling over me, that day.
William flinches. ‘What?’
I move closer, inspecting the rare sight. Does he even know when it’s happening?
The ice demon leans back against the door behind him. ‘Uh, Siara, what is it?’ The closer I get, the more colours reflect. Wild caution with a hint of something darker brews within them with every step. ‘Siara, what ar–’
His hand finds the door handle and with its sudden swing, he stumbles backwards ungracefully. It bangs against the wall with such force that a vase topples and shatters across the floor, an echoing smash in the old townhouse. William regains his balance, looking to the door just as stunned as myself. A wave of intricately designed swirls cascade down the door, across the frame and hinges and sprawls across the wall.
Lifting a finger to the ice, it melts on my touch. ‘I’m guessing you didn’t mean to do this?’ The demon looks away. My chuckle breaks through the silence. ‘Did you just have an accident?’ A smirk twinges. ‘Am I really that frightening?’
He bristles, stepping back. ‘Only your complete disregard for personal boundaries.’
I inspect the artistry. ‘This really is amazing.’ He looks back at the design as if unsure that we are looking at the same thing. ‘Will, just before in the kitchen… You didn’t hear any–’
‘No, I didn’t hear anything.’
Too fast. That was too fast and too prepared.
Our eyes meet. Electricity fires through what feels like every nerve in my body. The house is silent. Deafeningly silent. My heart is the loudest thing in this room, and I bet he can hear it. Beating. Loudly. Oh no. This can’t be happening. Panicked and determined to ruin this moment, I turn around, crouching to pick up the pieces of shattered vase and placing them frantically on the mantle. I hiss as one slices against my finger. No blood. That’s a close one. It surely should have been deep enough. A perk from Nero, I can only guess. An urgent hand pulls me up, facing me toward the ice demon. I suck in a sharp breath.
‘How did I used to live like this? It seems everything is out to harm you,’ he says and I can feel my retort loading at the ready. I pull my hand away and the loss of gravity disorientates me as I slip on the water splattered out from the vase. Fingers reach out like claws, gripping the demon’s arms that now catch me unceremoniously. It’s not graceful at all, and I can’t help but laugh.
As soon as I catch my breath, I almost lose it once again. Awkward and self-conscious, we’re frozen in place, alarmingly aware of each other’s touch. What… is happening right now? This can’t possibly be right. It’s a misunderstanding. Surely, I’m reading this whole situation wrong. Neither of us pulls away. ‘I’m fine, I’m just tired.’
Will frowns. ‘Yes, you keep saying that.’
‘Well, maybe you should believe me for once.’
‘Not likely.’
I start to pull away but his hand resists as if dreading the departure. I shove away any romantic notions. No. It’s more likely that he just doesn’t believe me. I wouldn’t even be in this mess if he wasn’t trying to mess with my head. So I lean in instead, tentatively resting my head against his chest with an exaggerated and dramatic sigh. Tired, see? Two can play at this game. Will tenses as if unsure how to respond, relaxing moments later. It’s all a game, I remind myself. He’s going to pull away and I will joke that I’ve gotten under his skin. And he will go back to the usual stoic ice demon with no feelings and we can forget this situation ever existed. His jaw comes to rest on my head, one hand placed gently on my lower back and another on my hair, embracing me.
‘You’re warm.’ He’s confused. My heartbeat thunders. Beating. Loud. Again. How do I get it to stop? Over. And over. And over.
I frown, equally confused. ‘Is that an issue?’
What’s happening here?
‘No. I had just forgotten what it was like.’ He’s trying to remind me that we’re not the same. He pulls back, taking in the details of my face as if searching for a reason to stop. Some sign that I’m not okay with this, an excuse to stop right here. He wants me to resign. To give up this game. To lose. ‘I don’t want to forget.’ The words are barely audible and their meaning is lost on me. Will’s hand, tentative, takes a loose curl from my hair, admiring it as it slips through his hand. Ready for me to break and pull away, he glances at me curiously but I hold his stare, rebellion taking a front seat, ignoring any form of rational thought that still exists in my brain. His brows furrow at my stubbornness, an amusement that dances behind his eyes. It’s still a game. An unspoken game of chicken intended to push me away, to show me that he’s not a good person. That he’s not a person at all. To not get attached. It’s meant to frighten me. I know this because I know him. He wants me to run and never look back. The demon leans in, a sinister look in his eyes, pausing; a warning, allowing me a few seconds to break free and run. I don’t.
I smirk and his face drops. I can win.
I kiss him lightly. And my soul might as well leave my body. It wasn’t supposed to feel like this. His lips against mine are nothing like I had expected. They’re better. Soft, intoxicating and all-consuming. He doesn’t pull away. Something warm inside my chest spreads out like poison through every vein and every nerve in my body. Dangerous. Toxic. I definitely didn’t win this game; actually, I think I just lost it. I pull back quickly. For a few moments after, it seems he’s too stunned to speak. What have I just done? I try to cover myself the only way I know how, by giving a playful smile. For all he knows, maybe it’s all still a game, maybe that didn’t feel amazing to me, and maybe I will be able to leave and get on with my life and not think of that kiss every single day for the rest of my life. Just like him I’m sure.
I brave a glance.
The amusement has left his face, revealing a dark and unguarded desire. My smile fades. His eyes stare so intensely, first at my eyes, and then down at my lips. I feel like they might just steal my soul. He kisses me. Repeatedly. Lost in a moment of temptation and confusion. The rational part of my brain has hibernated, completely useless in this current situation.
