Chapter 6 #3
“Not like that. ‘Friend’ means you trust they won’t try to kill you. You share food, resources. Jokes.” He shrugged. What else was there to say? “At least in my experience.”
“You don’t have any friends in the barracks?”
“I…used to.”
They were quiet. He was surprised to see that she got up to join him on the sofa.
“What happened?” Theora asked, her tone as na?ve as it was sincere.
Argos looked at her for a moment, as if gauging whether this information was safe with her. How would she feel, he wondered, if she knew that he hadn’t been able to protect the wife before her? She would have a reason to divorce him then, perhaps.
“I just don’t get along with anyone,” he said.
“They’re antagonizing you. You should tell Boada.”
He held in a laugh. “Maybe you should talk to her. For me it’s more of a tough-love situation—she encourages me to solve my own problems, and such.”
Theora scoffed. “And you think it’s different for me?”
“Well, you’re her niece.”
“What?” She blinked at him. “Oh. No. Auntie is just a term of respect. I’ve known her all my life, it seems.”
Argos raised his brows. “So have I, and I call her ‘ma’am.’ ”
Theora laughed, and Argos quickly looked away, cracking his knuckles to occupy his hands…
to stop himself from dragging her to him by the back of that slender neck and kissing those soft lips.
That voice…If something as simple as a laugh could bring him to his knees, he wasn’t sure how he’d survive the rest of this mission.
Theora took a breath. “You realize we’ll have to get very comfortable with each other, very quickly.”
“This feels pretty comfortable,” Argos murmured.
Theora seemed a bit surprised by the confession, as if they hadn’t just spent an entire week together in the same room.
“I mean, to the extent of a married couple. It’s not as if Aranean couples touch too often in public anyway, but we will have to hold hands sometimes and stand… incredibly close to each other.”
“Is that all?” said Argos. He shifted, reclining with his head against the arm of the sofa. “I can help you get used to that.”
“What do you suggest?” she asked, tentatively interested.
“Ten minutes of good old-fashioned cuddling.”
Theora looked mortified. “Absolutely not.”
“What are you afraid of,” Argos scoffed, “enjoying it?”
Theora scowled, but she immediately set to the task of leaning awkwardly against him, as if to prove him wrong.
She slapped his hand away as he moved to help her, but she seemed to need the help more than she realized—her fumbling, her hesitation, seemed genuine. She truly wasn’t used to this at all.
Even after her head finally rested on his chest, her hand twitched nervously, trying to find an appropriate place to settle.
“Hold on.” Argos looked at his watch. “I’m going to time how long it takes you to relax.”
“Oh, shut up,” said Theora, pressing her hands against his chest to get away.
“Come on, you’re not even trying.” He grabbed her forearms to keep her still. “Physical contact can’t be scarier than war.”
“It’s not,” she snapped, her blush crawling to her ears. He seemed to frustrate her easily, but this time he thought it might’ve been her pride getting in the way more than anything.
“Okay, then.” He released her, moving his arms out of her way. “If it makes it easier, just imagine I’m a big pillow. You hug your pillow at night. Same thing.”
“I hug my pillow at night?”
Argos grinned, which seemed to fluster her even more.
Theora hesitated, but before he could ask her what the problem was, she slowly lowered herself back down onto his chest. This time he didn’t offer any encouragement or teasing jabs.
He just kept his breath even so that hers would follow suit.
As stubborn as Theora was, he had waited on prey longer than this—his patience was stronger than her will.
And, ever so slowly, her breath relaxed.
Her pulse calmed. Her muscles, even—as light as she was, he could feel her weight settle on him as she finally let go.
Perhaps she was ready to accept his touch now, but part of him didn’t want to push it and ruin a nice thing.
Because…he’d missed this. A warm body lying against him. Someone to take care of and protect.
He could miss those things without disrespecting the memory of his wife, couldn’t he? After all, he wasn’t asking for her back. But there was no missing the sensations without remembering the woman attached to them…and actually, there was something really lovely about that.
Izzi had been more weighty than Theora, which he remembered had made it so much easier to fall asleep at night, with her on his chest like this.
She certainly hadn’t argued half as much as Theora—but then, Argos had been claimed willingly the first time around.
Perhaps if he had been as bitter then as he was now, he would’ve made more trouble for her.
Don’t let your hate for the enemy mar her memory.
Argos took a deep breath, turning his attention back to the woman lying against him, and, after a moment of listening to her breath, he realized she’d fallen asleep. He grinned. Well, this was one way to show she was comfortable with him.