Taming the Serpent

Chapter 9

By the time they'd circled the lake, the feeble warmth of the early autumn sun had vanished entirely, and by the softer sounds of the air around them, Ominis could tell evening had arrived. He was somewhat pleased with this assessment, as he'd quite lost track of time as he'd walked with Silver, talking of small, inconsequential things following their embrace. He found the smile that had so often eluded him came far more easily as she engaged him in a verbal joust, each poking light fun at the other as easily as if they had been friends for years, not weeks. He was delighted to find she could hold her own against his wit with ease, some of her responses so quickly drawn that he felt she might have a store of them ready and waiting in her mind. Most people, when making the foolish decision to try and spar with him like this fumbled their retorts after only a few jabs, or, on a few notable occasions, ran away crying.

He chuckled a little, remembering one such instance when Hobhouse had tried to insinuate that he was a frog-faced moonmind with a manticore for a mother, and Ominis' response had almost rivalled Shakespeare in its eloquence and brutality.

"That's a rare sound," Silver said, brightly.

Ominis blinked. "I'm sorry?"

"You laughed. Do it again. I like it," she responded with that increasingly familiar, lightly commanding tone that made him shiver pleasantly, and he could hear the smile in her voice. Feeling suddenly, inexplicably bold, Ominis grinned.

"Make me," he said.

She huffed a short laugh. "I doubt I could make you do anything you didn't want to," she said. "That said, I once replaced my parent's bed with a giant bouncing bulb. They hit the roof."

Ominis snorted, unable to hide his grin. "That was appalling, Silver."

"And yet it had the desired result," she replied, happily. Ominis shook his head, still grinning, and went to rub the back of his neck. His hand was caught on something, though, and he tilted his head, realising with a little start that his fingers were laced with Silver's. How long had they been holding hands? Just now? An hour? Since their embrace on the other side of the lake? How had he not noticed? Silently, he cursed himself for his carelessness. He'd have paid much more attention if he'd known!

But then... what if he'd done it, taken her hand on a whim and she had simply been too polite to say anything? Never mind that she would hex the hands off anyone that dared touch her without her permission, she was being nice to him, for reasons that were still quite foggy. With no small amount of regret, he eased his hand free and raised it, placing it on the back of his neck, as he had originally intended.

No matter what he was feeling, he couldn't risk insulting her. This friendship was new, still delicate, and he had to navigate it carefully. She had gifted him a measure of trust, and he would be the worst person in the world if he abused that, proving to her that all men were the same, desiring her only for her body, her looks, whatever they were. He knew as well as he knew his own hands that this wasn't the case, that he was attracted to her for who she was. At least, who she was showing him she was. But he had to keep things civil, polite, and platonic.

The thought was strangely painful as he said goodbye to her at the foot of the stairs, she wanting to head up to the Astronomy tower and he needing to head back to the dorm to change before dinner. But, he reasoned with himself, missing the feel of her hand in his, it was far better to have her as a friend than to be tossed aside and thrown away to be treated like the rest of the fools that vying for her attention like so many baying, slavering mongrels.

She only liked him. And he wanted to keep it that way.

Ominis lay down on his bed, fully clothed, unable to keep the smile from his face as he tucked his hands behind his head. Yes, it may only be in friendship, but she did like him. She'd made that clear. That made him special.