Interlude [h.s]

eighty

"Finish the juice," Alouette tells Amina.

It's nearly been a week since the night she took Harry to the roof, but she still hasn't been able to forget about it. To forget about the way he looked at her, his scent, his smile when he answered, the essence of him that filled the atmosphere. Harry is like the tide; he's flighty and fluctuating, but when he is with her, he drowns her with his presence. It's inescapable, and the more time she spends with him, the more she risks letting the water close over her head.

That night, with half the city glittering in front of them and the moon shining over their heads, she nearly broke. She nearly grabbed him by the shoulders and shouted her feelings in his face, because the more time passes, the heavier the knowledge of that I love you in her chest becomes. But she stopped herself; of course she did. She and Harry aren't only on different planets; they're on different solar systems spinning in opposite directions. Just being next to him feels like breaking a fundamental law of the universe; what right does she have to tie him down with her feelings? As if he'd ever let himself be tamed. Like the tide, he's impossible to restrain, and the more she tries, the more he slips through her fingers. At most, she can enjoy his presence when he does sweep in.

But a sneaky, hidden part of her wants more, and it's not so fond of staying silent. And with every passing day she wonders what would happen if she let her truth slide through her lips while his eyes are open. Would it be as doomed as she believes, too fragile to survive the arctic gales of his frozen heart? How foolish of her to fall in love with a man carved out of ice and shattered dreams. She can't help but fear his words will cut like blades if she approaches him from the wrong side.

"Revolution headquarters to Ivenheart."

Alouette blinks her thoughts away, realising that Jesse is sitting next to her at the breakfast table, waving a piece of toast cut in the shape of a fish in front of her face. "What...?"

"Told you Mrs. Trout would bring her back to us."

"What...?" She looks around. Amina is sitting in front of her, looking at her seriously while Jesse keeps waving his makeshift fish in front of her. It has a bean for an eye, and it's judging her just as harshly as her sister. Elodie is drowning her complaints in a cup of coffee.

The baked bean travels down the bread and hits the table, only an inch away from Alouette's cup.

"Oops, my bad," Jesse mutters, biting the tail off Mrs. Trout.

Alouette blinks twice and looks around the dining hall, but she can't find Elijah. "Why are you here?" she asks at last, puzzled.

Jesse shrugs. "Elijah is busy, Owl is sleeping and Lark is on a date, so that leaves me. Sad and lonely, with no one to turn to like the sad and lonely man I am." He dips his toast in his cup. "Have I mentioned I'm sad and lonely?"

Alouette will never get used to the nicknames he's given to the two men on his team. Every time he mentions him, her head jumps up. Maybe it'll be the end of her one of these days. She rolls her eyes. "You can stay."

"Ah, what an honour." He cuts his second slice of toast into a fish and eats the spare pieces. "What do you say, will we have eggs for breakfast at the Palace? That would be nice. Eggs. Haven't had one in over a month, I can only eat them in the city since they're too expensive to buy for the whole headquarters." He hands her the new fish-toast. It takes Alouette a moment to realise he wasn't cutting his second slice of toast, but hers.

She takes it and gives it a long stare. This one has no eye, but she doesn't complain. At least she isn't feeling judged anymore. "You can have anything you want at the Palace," she replies. "It's different from here."