Cinders [Completed]

Chapter 38: Of the Ones that Died

"Lee?"

I open my eyes. The room is still shrouded in darkness. For a moment, I wonder if I imagined the voice, a leftover from some dream. But I squint, and, finally, I can make out the figure leaning over me.

"Orion?" I ask blearily.

Orion's face is drawn in mild amusement. He tips his head to the side in a silent question. I scrub at my eyes, trying to formulate an explanation.

"I couldn't sleep. You're home!"

Orion's eyebrows lift slightly. He's propped up on his arm, his hand so close to my hip that I can feel his warmth through the covers.

"I am." Orion shifts so he's sitting on the edge of the bed, still leaning over me. The proximity also helps jolt me awake, sending a small rush of tingles down my spine. He slowly takes me in, from the bed head to the line of drool that is probably smeared down my chin. This makes me realize that I probably look worse than he's ever seen, including when I was bleeding out.

"I'll - I'll be, uhm, going." I sit up, but Orion's hand comes to my shoulder.

He looks tired, now that I really look at him. His eyes are bleary, his hair strangely untidy.

"Counter-proposal," he says, and his voice is low and sleepy. "Stay."

It's something in the way his dark eyes are so - tired. Warm and soft and tired.

"Okay," I reply, "that sounds like a good idea."

Orion exhales. He leans forward and presses his lips to my forehead with a small indecipherable murmur. Then, he pulls back, tucks my messy hair behind my ear.

"I'll be right back," he says.

He stands up. I hear the rustling of clothing in the darkness. I look up to his closet, where he's just disappeared. I can barely see, but, through his open closet door, Orion's bare back catches the faint moonlight.

I bury my face in the pillows before Orion can catch me watching. After a moment, I hear him walk over to the bed.

And then, like we do this all the time, he climbs into the bed, settles close to me, and pulls the covers over us.

He's wearing a t-shirt, so there's not that much of his skin on mine. Still, something hums in my fingertips as his hands find mine.

"Hi," I whisper. Our faces are only inches apart, so I can see the weariness clearly in his eyes.

"Hi," he echoes, lifting his free hand and tracing from my temple to my chin. The touch is more casual and comfortable than I ever thought it could be. So - easy. Simple.

"Can I ask you something?" he murmurs.

"Yes."

"That night that you stayed with me."

The night, forever ago, just before Dad has attacked me and everything fell apart. I nod in the darkness.

"What were you thinking?"

Elia was dead, and I was alone. And I needed him, and nothing else mattered.

"I wasn't." It's easier to confess these things, in the dark, when Orion's face is only an apparition in front of me. "I just wanted you."

Orion sighs. I feel his hand brush ever so gently on my shoulder.

"What was it like?" I ask, but I don't really know what I'm asking. Am I asking about that moment, when I found him? Am I asking about that moment when I ran away, leaving him alone?