The Deaths of Me (NEW ADULT REWORK)

10. Dane's Two Girls

I would rather be a coward than brave because people hurt you when you are brave.

--E.M. Forster

Dane yawned as he padded down the hallway to his bedroom, still brushing his teeth. A chill shook him, and he was suddenly glad that he'd tossed some logs in his fireplace and started it before showering. The day had been more than eventful, and he was still trying to figure out the wild-haired girl in the room across from his.

Granted, after her run-in with an unexpectedly forward Underdweller in Garth's shop, he'd more or less ignored her. But, that didn't mean his thoughts weren't on her. He'd never been jealous before, and the feeling didn't settle well with him. He stared at her door, brushing his teeth and trying to convince himself to knock.

He just had to keep some space between them while he tamed the strange overprotectiveness that had sprung up the second they'd met. It had risen like a high tide in his head when he'd seen that guy talking to Rory. He'd wanted to smash the guy's face into the nearest brick wall. He could have been a threat. And, that sleaze-ball had had the gall to smile at her.

Dane would have loved to slash the guy to ribbons, but he had no grounds other than he didn't like the way Rory stared back at him. Which brought his mind right back to her. How did she feel about the stranger? He groaned out loud. The girl was putting him through the ringer.

She'd seemed to sense his need for space after visiting Garth's shop, and had spent most of the evening reading the books that Garth had put on his pack's community tab. She hadn't been kidding about her love of research. She hadn't emerged from her own room since they'd arrived except to eat dinner, where she'd appeared with one of the volumes tucked under her arm. Dane hadn't been able to stop himself from watching her as she absently brought food to her lips even as her brow creased, her eyes focused on the book in her lap. It was attractive in the most backward way, watching her pay him no attention whatsoever. He loved seeing her lost in words. She always chose her own so carefully, and he wondered if it was because she had so many words tumbling around in her head from all her reading.

She was dark, like she had a very unlucky, very sad cloud hanging over her all of the time. But, she also had these glimmers of light and bravery that pushed past that melancholy sometimes. He had to admit it to himself: he really liked that side of her. It was just hard to reach someone who seemed to have started out so broken. What was he supposed to do? Talk his way into her trust? It was a new experience for sure, and he wasn't convinced it was one he liked.

With a snort, he shook himself out of his thoughts and turned away from Rory's door. He wasn't even trying to gain her trust, was he? Dane had never been one to second-guess himself, but with Rory it was all he could seem to do. Even his own actions at the Council hearing didn't make any sense to him. He wasn't one to make promises, and he certainly wasn't one to stick to them when he did. 'So what was up with that?' he asked himself as he elbowed his bedroom door open.

Rory sat on the floor, in front of his fireplace, legs crossed, and hair piled atop her head in a relentlessly messy bun. He couldn't see what she was wearing because she had wrapped herself up in an old blanket, and the fire was the only source of light in the small room. Upon closer inspection, he recognized the hand-woven monstrosity as one of the many blankets his mother had crocheted for him and his brother before she'd left with his father to go to Ireland to perform their duties. He shook his head to clear it of those memories.

He watched, wordless, as the blanket slipped from Rory's shoulder and revealed bare, smooth, brown skin. The toothbrush fell out of his mouth and he flailed a bit before he caught it. Luckily, she hadn't seen him. She looked impossibly deep in thought, almost trance-like.