Saving Neba

𝐗𝐗𝐈: Who I Am

I was supposed to be at Mister Pat's - I heard he'd employed more people and redesigned the place - working as the one who took in orders. Or, I had promised to meet with Emily Aniah and Griffin Greenwood - Griffin had finally found the courage to apply for the position of Rose-Gold High's next Senior Prefect.

Good for him, truly. He had oral skills, intelligence, creativity and was an excellent communicator. The only problem was, like me, he was shy. Except, I was better than him. Griffin was the true nerd - he had an amazing body but you would never know that, hidden under his big red hoodies and cargo trousers.

I could have been doing push-ups at home just like I'd been doing for a while now or paid a visit to Madeleine Douglass, Rowan's ex-girlfriend to have a word or two with her. Because of her, Rowan was not himself going back to Birmingham City University.

She was another one of the few people Rowan ever opened his heart to, and she'd broken him.

Mum was also home alone, or maybe she would pay a visit to Clark and his family. If she was home, she would be sleeping or typing, or she would be thinking about a lot of things. But I knew, she would want to see Clark, at the very least.

She missed him, she loved him, despite everything he had done.

Yet, here I was, in this taupe-walled coverage, seated on a red armchair, pushing all of my Earthian problems away.

My right leg was on a stool in front of me. Tujan knelt beside my leg, taking the bandage and leaves off. The leaves were still as green as fresh as before, somehow. Tevessa sat inches away, in an army-coloured sleeved shirt and khaki shorts, watching Tujan work her petite angel skin around the bandages, and all.

"Why are the leaves still fresh?" I let the questions out. Around Tujan, Tevessa, and this family, I felt free and comfortable.

"Bisal never dries, not until it realizes it's not being useful," she explained and finally took all the leaves out and placed them on a small brown plate. All that was left on my skin was a two-inch red scar. Tujan began to dry the green stain on my leg with a wet towel.

"So, now that they aren't on my legs, they'll dry up?"

"If you throw them away, yes?"

"Can they be reused?"

"Would you reuse a bloodstained leaf?"

"I guess... I guess that makes sense." Tujan finished wiping my legs. I muttered a thank you, got up, and readjusted my leggings.

"We should check out Nesylone, you'll love it." Tevessa stood up and eyed the wine glass on the table. Nilsa had given me a glass of pegrazh juice.

"Nesylone?" I asked, wrapped my arms around the glass and took a long sip, silently teasing him.

"Yes. You want to come up?" He stepped toward me. Tujan was watching; she didn't understand the telepathic competition going on between Tevessa and me.

"Up?" I stepped back.

"Well, waters don't stay underground." He took his time, putting his rough hands over mine. His hands were sturdy and rough, like a soldier, like he spent his days putting his hands close to fire, or sharpening swords.

"Well, somehow they do. I mean, if you dig sand in a desert, you would find water." I tightened my grip. "Why would you want to go up? Are you not scared?"

"Of what?"

"Being seen?" Tevessa leaned down so that his lips were at the tip of the glass. He held it between his teeth and dipped his head back. Some of the liquid followed his movement and disappeared into his mouth. "You're crazy, I tell you."