of the corner of his eye, his chest rising and falling minimally.
All thoughts of my arm and ribs push from my mind immediately. A proposal? His words are so serious I suddenly want to run away again. I can count the number of times Declan has been serious with me and that number doesn’t even fill one hand.
“I’m listening.”
An intake of breath, loud and heavy, passes his lips like he’s gathering the courage to say something. I try to keep a bored expression in my features but my mind is reeling with each second that ticks by.
“I was hoping you’d stop working at the clinic after our training each day.” He pauses to meet my eyes before continuing. My brows rise at his choice of topic. “If you were to be my understudy, Raske would be more apt to take you more seriously and you would, in turn, get what you wanted. On a smaller scale, of course, there are still some restrictions.” He’s looking back at the few scattered clouds filling the sky again and I can see him visibly swallow, his Adam’s apple struggling to accommodate such a calm task.
Lying on my side, my mouth opens but then closes just as fast, unsure how to respond. He just offered me what I’ve been pleading for with Raske for months. An understudy. A loophole is what it really is. Why is he offering this to me? Declan could have any member of our community be his understudy and most of them wield unnatural strength that would fare a thousand times better than myself.
“W-Why?” I sputter.
He laughs, a flash of white on display within his perfect smile.
“I mean, of course, I appreciate the offer, but why would you want me? I’d be more work than I’m worth.” Bitter honesty stings my voice.
He rolls onto his side to face me. Crystal-like eyes search my face, a frown shadowing his features. His arm rests under his head and his other hand taps restlessly against his leg.
“Because we’re friends, Fallon.” He takes a breath, his prowling eyes travel the length of the thick forest in thought before returning to me. “I know I flirt with you and tease you because you’re one of the few people that tolerate speaking to me, but I mean it when I say we’re friends. At least you are to me. You don’t look at me the way every single person that I pass looks at me. Only Raske has ever shown me kindness, a kindness his son didn’t inherit. I’ve roamed city to city and I’ve been dumped out of every one of them except here. This screwed up society accepts and rejects me all at the same time.” He closes his eyes for a moment. Flinching at his own words, while the pain that he’s kept inside sinks into me.
“But you don’t look at me like they do. Your eyes don’t hold anger or disgust at what I am. I don’t know where you came from, because I’ve been all over and I’ve never met someone that makes me feel—" A hesitancy fills him, seemingly thinking through his feelings. “You make me feel like I’m actually alive.”
Like he’s alive. Something so simple. Like I can see him as a person, not a hybrid, a pike. The derogatory term for his kind is heavy in my mind. There are mystics of all kinds, none are accepted by humans but his race is hunted. The pain he transfers into me radiates and spreads through me as I recall all the times I’ve rolled my eyes or said a snide remark to him. I’m not exactly kind to him. He’s just as lost as I am.
Maybe we all are.
Everyone in this community is here because society couldn’t allow them to be who they are. Because they were tired of changing or hiding who they really were to better bend to the form of those around them. But they still want this hybrid to bend in hopes that he will break. So they can sweep up the pieces and dump them in a corner of their mind that they will revisit with guilty souls but clear minds.
But he won’t.
Swallowing hard, I try to make sense of his confession. “You confuse the hell out of me, Declan,” My words pull a small smile over his lips, “but anyone should be honored to be your understudy. I accept and appreciate your offer,” I say as formally as he originally did.
His smile widens,