Dust (Of Dust and Darkness) - By Devon Ashley Page 0,62
still closed and my head resting back against the wall.
“Yeah?”
“Promise me I’ll get to dive again before I die.”
“You’re not going to die, Rosalie. Not here. That I can promise you.”
I shake my head in amusement. If only Jack could determine my fate.
“You do realize Finley has no intention of ever letting me go, right? Even if I was broken. He’d never risk me telling the other pixies that the world they’re kept in is all an illusion.”
Since my eyes are closed, I’m unsure of his reaction, and because silence is all that follows. After awhile, a melodic tune begins soothing the air around us. It’s the first time he’s ever played his harmonica down here, at least for me directly. It’s louder now that he’s close, our small accommodations amplifying his notes, and I love the way the sound vibrations tickle the hairs in my ears. I’m pretty sure I’m still smiling when his music finally sings me to sleep.
Today is a good day. Jack and I are both cheery, the awkwardness seemingly fading between us. We’ve been careful not to make physical contact, even accidentally. I’ve spent the past several days trying to walk the diameter of my rocky hole to strengthen what little muscle I have in my legs. I don’t really see a difference, but I can feel it. Now that I’m getting plenty of food and water courtesy of Jack, my body’s not attacking what’s left of my muscle for nourishment. With each day I’m able to add several more laps. The soles of my feet have healed and are thickening daily, so unless I step on a particularly sharp peak, it doesn’t hurt to walk over the rocks anymore.
Jack plays his harmonica a lot. I welcome the sound when it fills the silence, since neither of us feels obligated to converse constantly. He’s actually pretty good at it, and his song choices are endless. The music is pacifying, and something about it makes me feel completely at ease. Normally I wouldn’t mind, but it’s almost like the music bewitches me, luring me into a sound sleep.
Hmm…I wonder. Maybe he thinks as long I’m asleep, I won’t be able to develop deeper emotions for him. But unbeknownst to him, he plays the male lead in my dreams, as well as in my reality, so even sleeping won’t remove him from my thoughts.
I awake when Jack begins his descent, the sound of him clearing his throat snapping me out of my slumber. The strap of his satchel is taut and firmly stretches across his chest, the bag’s contents overflowing and bulging through the sturdy material. Today he’s wearing a black shirt and thin, loose pants with multiple pockets down the legs – I wonder why he didn’t stuff anything in those. His smile is warm and instigates mine. His hair is growing longer, the dark brown curls becoming heavy, stretching out into waves, making it easier to tuck behind his ears.
“Morning, Rosalie.” He touches down softly, sets the lantern on the floor and steadies the satchel as he lifts the strap off his body. I don’t know why, but it still surprises me that he seems happy to see me each day. It’s kind of nice seeing a friendly smile in this prison.
“Morning, Jack. What exactly are you packing in there anyway?”
“Well, first off…” He digs through the bag and pulls out a canteen for me. “Your breakfast. Strawberries and banana and cream.”
My eyes pop and my mouth waters before I can even reach for it. “Wow. Do I have your sister to thank for this again?”
“Nope. Me.” His eyes light up and he flashes me an excited smile. Digging through his bag, he removes two tin capsules. They’re similar to the one the honey was in, but smaller, just like the ones Poppy and I keep by our wash stands. “This you owe my sister for, because I swiped it from her room.”
He unscrews the capsules. There’s compacted powder in each container; one a yellowish hue, the other a dark plum. Makeup? Really?
“Jack, I know I look pretty bad, but I don’t think makeup will help at this point.”
After letting loose a soft chuckle, he responds, “Actually, Rosalie, you’re looking pretty good these days. Too good.” He cocks his eyebrows and I’m left wondering if that remark has a double meaning. Jittery butterflies pop to life in my abdomen. I sigh…he does look really cute today, constantly trying to tuck the stray lock of hair