The Lightning Mage

16 | The After Party, Part II

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Lyn laid on the couch as she stared into her white, stippled ceiling. The morning sun had peeked its way into the room, illuminating the tiny bumps and patterns that she had memorized over the night. Her stomach was growling, and her head was throbbing from the lack of sleep, but right now, nothing mattered more than her ongoing staring contest with the ceiling.

Until Irene's disapproving face popped into her view.

"What the hell are you doing out here?" she grumbled, dropping a broom onto Lyn. "If you're awake, at least help with the cleaning."

Lyn caught the broom and heaved herself up.

"Irene..."

Irene frowned. "What's wrong with you? Bad hangover?"

"Not really."

Lyn leaned on the couch and massaged her head. Once again, the memories from last night flooded her brain, followed by a wave of regret, guilt, and what-the-fuck-have-I-done-ness. She gulped; her mouth felt as though it was filled with coarse sand.

"So, I kissed Cinna last night," she muttered.

This was a sentence she had longed to utter, but never in her life would she have ever imagined herself feeling this terrible while saying it.

Irene's frown deepened. "Oh, good for you, I guess? Why do you look so sad about it? Did something happen?"

"Yeah, kinda."

"Did she not want to kiss you?"

"I- I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know? Geez, Lyn, did you kiss her without asking?"

Lyn rubbed her face. "I didn't mean to... She did kiss me back though, and then pulled me in for a second kiss."

"Hm, alright." Irene folded her arms and rested on the couch. "So are you two, like, together now?

"I don't know." Lyn closed her eyes for a while, before looking up at the dark-skinned woman. "But, you know how Cinna has those scars on her arms?"

"Argh, not this again. Stop harping on it. It's honestly not that big of a deal. Cyd's a fighter, you know? She's bound to have some injuries."

"You don't understand, it's not just a few scars..." Lyn's voice croaked in anguish as she recalled the dreadful image she saw yesterday. Her heart was once again pierced with a torrent of needles. "I- I don't know if I should be sharing this, but Cinna... she's been hiding a lot more scars, so, so much more. It's so bad, Irene. It's such a crazy amount that I'm- I'm sure it's not from her being a fighter anymore. It's- It's on the level of... I don't know, abuse? Torture?"

"Seriously?" Irene's expression went from annoyance to concern. "Where?"

Lyn gestured around her body. "All over. She's hiding them under her shirt."

"That's terrible," Irene said with a grimace.

"I know! I want to fucking kill whoever did this to her. God, just thinking about it now makes me angry all over again."

"Count me in; I'll help you. But anyway," —Irene's eyes flickered towards her with a glint of amusement.— "the fact you saw that, means she took off her clothes for you, huh. Did you guys do more than just kissing then? I want to hear all about it."

"Oh, well, about that... I sort of..." Lyn lowered her head; the shame that had grown exponentially over the night was pressing down on her, crushing her entire body. "I sort of just... erm... pulled up her shirt to look..."