Amaranthine

7: A Clean Slate

THE PEACEFUL SILENCE OF THE LIBRARY WAS BROKEN BY DIO'S VOICE; "FREYA, CAN WE TALK?" The blonde-haired boy slid into the seat across from me and I couldn't help but scowl.

A month had passed since our fight and we had reached the point where we'd started pretending the other person wasn't there unless it was absolutely necessary to communicate.

"I'm not ready to listen to you," I said, using Dio's own words against him.

Dio sighed. "I really am sorry." He said. "You don't have to listen, but please just let me speak."

"What's the point if I don't believe you?"

Dio flinched at my words, clearly remembering his own: "I suppose it doesn't matter what I say at this point. There's no use talking if you won't listen. We can reconcile when you're ready to believe my words."

Thinking back on the fight, I might have been too angry to listen without doubting the words Dio spoke. However, it was not just anger that had clouded my mind at the time. I felt betrayed and uncertain if Dio had been telling me the truth. My anger had faded, but my doubts were still valid a month later..

I looked back down at my book, waiting for Dio to say something. My eyes skimmed the pages, but I didn't absorb a single word. I finally glanced up at Dio, raising an eyebrow at him in a silent question: What are you waiting for?

Dio seemed to give up, standing quietly and walking towards the door. The tension coiling in my stomach slowly unwound with each step he took away from me. But at the same time my irritation only grew. I thought he wanted to talk to me.

Dio took a sudden turn down one of the isles, disappearing from sight. He returned all too soon and sat back in his original place across from me. He was holding a book. I glanced up to read the cover, 'The Scarlet Letter.' I hadn't seen that as his type of book. It was closer to something I would read, which was why I was in the process of enjoying the story. It could have been coincidence that Dio picked up the same title, but I was certain he'd noticed I was reading it. That was probably why he'd picked it up.

Dio caught me staring, but he didn't say anything. The silence was beginning to bother me, but I was too stubborn to say it aloud. I wondered if I should speak, but thought better of it. If Dio really wanted me to forgive him, he would have to ask for it in a suitable manner.

I forced my eyes back down to my book and willed my eyes to move across the written words. Dio's presence was far too powerful for me to ignore, especially when I wanted him to say something. We sat in silence and after a while, the library faded to the back of my mind. Dio disappeared with it and I was suddenly engrossed in the book I was reading.

Half an hour later, I closed the book and found that Dio had not only been waiting for me, but he had fallen asleep at the table. Some part of me felt guilty I hadn't spoken sooner, but the rest of me was trying so hard not to care. I wanted to ignore the fact that he wanted forgiveness, but would not ask for it. I pretended like I didn't want to forgive him. I was angry that he'd hurt my friends, but when I looked at him I just saw a twelve year old boy who'd made a mistake.

I hesitated, but eventually called out. "Dio," I said softly. There was no response. I sighed. "I can't believe he would just fall asleep like this." I murmured aloud to no one in particular.

Should I leave him? I don't want to wake him. But I'd feel a bit bad if he woke up alone after waiting for me this long. And that position isn't exactly comfortable to sleep in. . .

Dio's body was hunched over the table and his cheek was pressed against the cover of his book like a pillow. His left arm was nesting the top corner of the book perfectly into the bend of his elbow. He rested his hand over his other arm, which lay straight across the table with a palm turned upwards as if he'd meant for me to reach out and grasp his hand.