Cinders [Completed]

Chapter 29: The Truth | Part II

My eyes are warm with tears. I bury the emotion flooding my system.

It's been a long day. I've doomed my father and found the last shred of my best friend. Exhaustion falls on my shoulders.

But it's not over yet. I still have to tell Orion about my weakness. He's a good person, but I don't know how he'll be able to forgive this flaw. Suddenly, I feel so angry at myself. I'm doing everything wrong. I should've told him I was stunted back when I wanted to leave; then, he could've made the choice for me. It's not fair, for me to accept him, to give him hope, and then to give him the biggest disclaimer of all time.

Goddess, Dad was so angry when he found out that I was stunted.

I shake this thought away. No. Orion isn't like my father. But if I think about it hard enough, I can imagine his face molding into the expression of rage that I know so well. It sends a nervous shiver down my spine. But no. Orion isn't like my father.

Maybe it will hurt even worse, if he's kind. I could, much more easily, imagine Orion's face falling in disappointment. He would take my scarred hand, and he would tell me that  he could put me up in a house, far away, and no one would have to know that we were mates. He would hide his anger at his would-be-Queen.

This makes me feel a shaking in my chest. I wonder if it is the first spasm of heartbreak.

The sun is setting. In the darkness, it finally feels like winter.

When Orion knocks on my door, I'm waiting for him. I try to keep my expression neutral as I open the door and greet him.

"I think you'll like the roofs," Orion says with a small smile. "It's the best place to stargaze."

I hate myself so much. It's not incredibly obvious, but Orion is happier than he's been before. It's just the slightest change in the way he walks, the smallest inflection in his voice. Happy.

Because he thinks he has a mate, finally. I feel like my lungs are deflating like balloons.

"Do you stargaze much?" I ask, trying to be casual.

"You're talking to an expert," he promises. "I charted the constellations when I was 11."

"I'm afraid I won't be able to keep up with you," I reply. I try to disguise the sadness of this sentence. I won't be able to keep up with him in any way.

Orion pauses, looking at me softly. "It's not a race, Lee."

I realize that his hands are swinging by his side. He seems to angle his palm just slightly, like an invitation. For a moment, I almost want to take it. I let my knuckles brush against his fingertips before I fold my arms tightly.

Orion makes it painfully hard to remember, and very, very easy to be selfish.

The walk is too short. Too soon, we come to a door, and I know that, on the other side of it, I'm going to ruin my life.

The moon is half-full, bright enough that I can still read Orion's face, but dark enough that, within five minutes, I catch the first shooting star.

"Oh!" I exclaim.

When I turn to look at him, Orion is already staring at me, that same soft happiness in his eyes.

I flush. "I didn't - I didn't know that there was a meteor shower tonight."

Embarrassed, I examine the roof. It's extensive, but obviously not intended for social events. It's simply a massive, gray slab, and the only decoration is a large, soft blanket and a pile of cushions. I shiver, just slightly, in the cold air, and I feel a rush of relief at the pile of blankets close by.