Dust

III

At the streetlight where we met for the night, Damien vanishes. To make our way back to my home, I have to practically drag Gael, since he seems so amazed by the fact that, in truth, Damien doesn't need to walk anywhere; he can appear and disappear as he pleases—yet another skill healers don't have.

    "This way, Gael," I say as I give another tug. After a moment, the streetlight flickers off, and again Gael makes a noise of unease. I can definitely tell he isn't from here; the only reason that light was on in the first place was our presence.

    Gael gives a sigh as I release his arm, raking a hand back through his curls. They tumble across his forehead a moment after, and I notice they seem to drip with sweat. Before I can comment, if I was even going to, he says, "I know. I must be a wimp to you."

    I cut a glance towards him, offering an encouraging smile. "Oh, don't speak like that. You are not a wimp, just...unfamiliar."

    There is silence before Gael lets out a laugh, flashing me that grin I'd seen in the forest again. His eyes narrow in a mocking way. "Either you honestly believe that, or you're scary good at making euphemisms. My vote is on the latter."

    I stare at him for a moment, not sure I've ever met anyone so self-deprecating. I have to keep reminding myself he is from somewhere else, is something else. "You're terribly hard on yourself, don't you think?"

    He rubs his shoulders, as if cold, but when I ask him if he is, he assures me he is not. I would not be surprised if he is cold and is lying to me, since he wears only a pair of dark cargo pants and a green quarter-button-down shirt. He is without a jacket in the admittedly chilly temperatures of night, but makes no move as if to correct that fact. "The truth hurts," is all he says.

    We've reached my house; I peer into the windows, making sure the lights continue to be off and everyone inside of it is still asleep. The last thing I need is my groggy mother shooing Gael away. I reach to crank the doorknob, but stop.

    "Everything okay?" Gael asks.

    "Yes," I say, my face blossoming into a smile before I can stop it. I turn to him, and he looks down at me incredulously. "I just forgot to say that if you're going to be horrifically morbid with all of your 'truth hurts' morals, you cannot enter my home, Mr. Echeart."

    He looks awed, smirking as he replies, "I have been called many things. Both monster and human most recently, but never horrifically morbid."

    "That's odd. I believe I just called you horrifically morbid."

    Gael cocks his head. "Are we going there, Gemma?"

    "I believe we are."

    His smirk seems to grow before he shrugs, reaching out and placing his hand over my wrist. Together, we force the doorknob to cranks and I hear a click as the door prepares to unhinge. "My apologies, then. I'll just leave my morbidness outside."

    We enter the house, the only noise the sound of our breaths and of our shoes on the wood flooring. Mother and Finn are likely still fast asleep in their beds, where I should be. The whole place is lifeless without the time of day.

    I fish around in my satchel until I recover a flashlight, something my father had taught me to always carry. The kitchen floods with an almost blinding light when I click it on, dousing the kitchen island with white. "Hungry?" I ask Gael, before I realize I have no idea what his diet consists of. When Damien is over, he brings his own supplements from one of the blood banks in the city, but as for a human, I have no idea what they need. "I-I mean, we have, uh, cereal. Do humans—do you like cereal?"