The Scourge (A.G. Henley) - By A.G. Henley Page 0,80
as he got older, he was lonely. He found himself watching the ground, and not for prey. He was watching a girl. Every day he watched her, hoping he’d have the chance to meet her.” He pauses. “I know the boy sounds kind of creepy, but really he’s not.”
“Oh no, of course not.”
“Anyway, one day the boy got lucky. He met the girl, and talked to her. Not only was she beautiful, but she was brave and kind, and yes, a lot like a lizard.” I smack his arm. “When he had the chance to go on a long journey with her, he didn’t hesitate. But then she dragged him through ominous, pitch-black caves, made him battle wild animals and frostbite, and almost drowned him in a raging river, before they washed up on the shores of a magical village, where an evil old man first tried to suffocate the boy with incense before he finally relented–”
“Peree! That is so unfair!”
“Anyway, the boy recovered, mostly, and together he and the girl learned many strange and wonderful things about the village. And every day the boy spent with the girl, he saw how she was even more incredible than he first thought. He realized she was the most incredible girl he’d ever known, or ever would know.”
My heart thrums and heat spreads through my body. I’m giddy from the wine, the dancing, and the turn our conversation is taking.
“The problem is,” he says, “I don’t know how this story ends. The girl has to go back home to the forest, and the boy can’t go with her. And she has obligations at home, to her family, and her friends, and maybe even to another boy. And to make matters worse for our hero, even if he’s really, really lucky and the girl feels the same way about him, he’s not sure how they can stay together, because their people aren’t exactly friendly. But the boy wants to stay with the girl, very much.”
“Peree, I–”
He presses his lips to mine, softly, then again, his sweet scent clouding my head even more. Whatever I was going to say drifts away like a dream upon waking. “You don’t have to answer now. I know you can’t make any promises. But I want you to know what I want. And that’s you.” He traces my collarbone with his fingers. “You’re the first thing I think of when I wake up and the last thing when I go to sleep. You’re my sun and moon and stars, my past and present—and I hope you’ll be my future.”
He kisses me then, a real kiss this time—slow, soft, searching—a kiss that asks questions, but without words. His lips are on my lips, his hands on my skin; his body presses mine down into the grass. His freshly shaved cheeks and chin are soft and smooth. I weave my hands through his hair, and pull him closer. To touch someone—him—so freely, calls tears to my eyes.
His voice is hoarse as he murmurs in my ear. “So take that with you tomorrow as you travel home. Know that I love you, and I want you, and I want you to choose me.” His lips move against my ear like the wings of a moth. I shiver under him. “No pressure.”
I laugh, but his hands and lips and tongue make me forget what I thought was so funny.
We wake early the next morning, our arms and legs jumbled like an unruly ball of thread. I kiss him, and whisper good morning.
“Was it a good night, too?” His voice has that rough edge of disuse that makes my blood dive headlong through my veins. I press my lips to his again in answer. He rolls on top of me, pinning me, and I wrap my legs around him. A little later, he flops onto his back, groaning.
“You can’t leave today,” he says. “I’m going to be in a very bad mood every minute of every day until I can follow you.”
“Nerang will be happy to hear that.” I sit up, and try to smooth my frenzied hair. “If it’s any consolation, no matter what I find at home, I’ll be miserable, too. I’ll miss you.” I frown, realizing that even when he comes back to the forest I’ll still be missing him, separated as we’ll be by the trees. “Peree, about what you said last night, what you told me–”
“Don’t say anything now. Maybe it doesn’t make much sense, but if you