Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
She is alive. She is alive. She is alive.
If I wouldn’t have seen her — touched her — only seconds ago, I wouldn’t believe it myself. She is alive. I should be happy, and deep down, I am. But at the same time, I’ve never felt so…betrayed.
The fact that it’s not only by the one I’ve known the longest, but also by someone I let in so easily, cracks my heart in two. And they are twins. How did I not see that?
At the edge of pulling my hair out, I find myself standing in the centre of the dojo. I’m surprised my mind and body has led me here, but at the same time, is there a better way to let out my emotions than by punching something?
To my relief, I’m alone and the lights in the equipment room turn on automatically as I enter. The punching bag stands in the middle of the room, as if it’s been placed there for me on purpose.
I don’t bother putting on gloves, but make sure I don’t tug my thumb in, remembering Conláed’s words very clearly; “It’s not because you’re weak that you can’t break your thumb by punching like that.” The concern might have warmed my heart, if not for the beginning of his sentence.
I take the correct stance and start punching.
I don’t know how long I hit the bag with a technique Conláed would probably scold me for, but the nape of my neck is soaked, so is my T-shirt and sweat runs down my face.
As I try to untangle the mess that is my mind and fail miserably every single time, pain starts to break through the haze.
I stop.
I become aware of my surroundings, still alone thankfully, but the wind I thought I heard bellowing outside, is actually my laboured breath. My arms tremble and as I stare at the punching bag, I notice flecks of red on it.
My fingers twitch, which causes me more pain than I was anticipating. I take in my hands, noticing how the skin has split open at several places, and is already turning a blueish purple shade. The ache I currently feel isn’t a good omen for what tomorrow will probably bring.
I rest my head against the bag and take a few deep breaths, only to let it all out in a scream that rumbles the ground. Or it at least feels that way.
Not wanting to drip blood all around the place, I head over to one of the sinks and let the water run over my hands. It stains red immediately, but other than that, I can’t say I really feel the sting as the water hits the open wounds.
When the water runs clean, restlessness still pushes against my skin and I leave the dojo behind, thinking the library might bring me some peace. Although…I don’t think my mind can focus long enough to disappear into a book, but the environment might calm my racing mind and —
I halt mid walk as I pass the restaurant. Students hang around, but that’s not the reason why I stopped. It feels like a golden thread sprouts from my chest, near my heart, to something that lays beyond the doors of the restaurant.
Following my intuition, I push open the door, pass the dining area and nearly run down the stairs that lead to the area underneath the mezzanine.
A pinch in my shoulder makes me turn around, and there stands the most magnificent classic piano I have ever seen. How did I miss the grand instrument the last time I was here?
I let my finger glide over the smooth surface of the wing before sitting down behind the keys. Fragments of me playing the piano used to occasionally rise to the surface. Time to find out how skilled I am after all those years. I press a single key and the sound reverberates through the whole room.
And although most of my past is still a mystery, I do know playing this magnificent instrument used to bring me joy. Maybe it can be a balm for my beaten-up heart.
With a fluttering heartbeat but surprisingly steady hands, I let my fingers float above the keys before gently lowering them. The notes sound hesitant in the beginning, but it only lasts for a couple of seconds. A familiar melody rises, although I can’t remember where I’ve heard it before.
A single tear falls down my cheek, and I close my eyes, and get completely lost in the soft notes. My hands hurt as my fingers move, but I push through it, because what is a little pain when you can create something so beautiful?
As I play the last note, I open my eyes and take a deep breath. Some of the weight lifted off my chest, the ache and betrayal are still there, but I can breathe a little easier. A tingling, burning sensation erupts at the base of my neck, followed by the sound of an applause only a second later.
“That was some nice music, little feather. Where did you learn to do that?”
I swallow. I think I might fall off this bench. Conláed was watching me and I didn’t even notice until now. The universe is not on my side today.
I lazily run a finger across the keys, producing a soft tune. “I played when I was little, but I haven’t touched a piano in years.”
“Why did you stop?”
The burning sensation turns even hotter and a large, tanned hand lands next to mine, fingers moving fluently across the keys, complementing the tune I’m creating.
The scent of bergamot and smoke that are so very Conláed fills my nose and it takes everything in me not to inhale too deeply.
It’s intoxicating in the best way, heat spreading much lower this time.
“There wasn’t an opportunity to play after that.”
His other hand lands on the left side of the piano where the lower notes lay and his fingers dance across the keys. Is there something this man can’t do?
But it also means I am caught in between his arms and the air gets stuck in my throat. His scent and being this close to him does funny things to my heart and…other parts as well.
Instinct takes over and I add my other hand to the play, which creates a light symphony perfectly emphasizing each other.
We stop at the exact same time, his hands fall away and he lets out a low whistle.
He sits down next to me and I turn towards him, but his eyes aren’t on my face, they are on my hands. Oh.
“I can’t wait to see the other guy.”
I follow his gaze, seeing how my hands are even more swollen and bloodier than before, colouring a blueish purple shade.
“That’s not…I didn’t…there wasn’t…” Ah shoot, being this close to him without him calling me names is not good for my sanity. Not good at all. I can’t even form basic sentences anymore. Fucking hormones. “No one else got hurt. I was hitting a punching back. That is all.”
No scuff, no laughing. To my surprise, he seems a little concerned. He gently picks up my right hand, as if I’m made of porcelain. He lifts it a little higher and moves his face closer, examining it with care.
I don’t shrink back from his touch, don’t despise it either. It feels so natural, and although my palm is really burning up, I don’t mind at all. I need his touch, like the music was my balm, he is too.
“Unless you want to give up playing the piano forever, you should go to Althea.”
“I was planning to, I just got a little…sidetracked.”
He smiles and two dimples appear. I have never seen him smile before, not like this. Maybe he should stop, my heart can’t handle it. “I can see that.”
I can’t interpret the look in his eyes, but his gaze burns right through me, his hazel eyes look like molten gold.
I move to stand up, but he beats me to it and helps me, gently pulling me upward. Only when I’m standing and he sees I’m firm on my legs, he lets go of my hand.
“I’ll see you later?”
He raises a brow, a little bit of arrogance slipping back into place. “Who said you were going alone?”
I squeeze my eyes. “Uh, I did just now? I know the way.”
He grins, of course he does. “I’m sure you do, feather, but I will accompany you either way. I wouldn’t want you to run into another punchbag and beat the shit out of it.”
It is so very tempting to comment on it. But deciding it is wiser to be the better person, I keep my mouth shut and I start walking.
“Nothing to say?”
I lift my chin a little higher. “Nope.”
A grin tugs at the corners of his mouth and although I would never admit it, especially not to him, I am relieved to not be alone. But as we walk to the Sanctum, Conláed's interrogation begins and I might reconsider my relief from this moment on.
“Have you eaten yet?”
“No, and I’m not hungry either.” I lost my appetite the moment my heart got ripped out of my chest. Again.
“Meow. You’re very feisty today.”
I give him a look that tells him he is so not helping. And when I don’t comment back, the confident grin falters. “Do you want to talk about it?”
I sigh. Yes? “No.”
Maybe it's not a good idea to do that right now. Would he know about Aramis and Ami? Aramis said they are best friends, and I do believe that’s a detail you would tell to someone you consider a best friend.
But it wasn’t his responsibility to tell me.
Conláed doesn’t really have anything to do with it.
“Hey.” I look up, his piercing gaze absorbing all the light around us, in the same way Aramis’ eyes do. “You will be okay, feather. Whatever it is, you’ll get through it.”
I quickly look away. I really don’t want to cry in front of him. Why can’t he just return to being a smug bastard. I prefer that, I think. Or at least at this moment I do.
We’ve reached the Sanctum, the pull of the tree immediate and even stronger than this afternoon. I stumble, as if the force pulls me to the ground.
Conláed looks over his shoulder. “Everything okay back there?”
My cheeks turn red, I hope he doesn’t notice. “Perfectly fine, I stumbled over a protruding root.” I hear him nicker softly. We both know there are no roots sticking out of the level flooring.
I follow him into the healing area and Althea walks over to us, most of her patients sound asleep or in a good enough state to take care of themselves for a little moment.
“Maily! Back so soon?” Her eyes move toward Conláed, eyebrows rising slightly. “And with company. What did you do this time?”