Chapter 27 #2
“I have been real, Seren. I have tried my best to show you my true self. I thought this agreement was working for the both of us.” I didn’t trust the confusion which crossed his features. Harkin was an excellent actor, or so he said.
“I thought it was, too, but you have broken your end of the bargain. I know you did, otherwise I wouldn’t feel this way. Stop making me feel this way!” I stalked toward him again, jabbing an outstretched finger into his chest.
Tears stung the backs of my eyes, hot and sharp. My throat closed around my words.
His voice was a breath that scarcely reached my ear. “What are you feeling, Ren?”
I was flustered, face hot against the cold afternoon.
My fingers gripped his cloak to steady themselves.
“Like… this! Like I can’t breathe! Like I want to…
” My eyes dropped to his mouth. His dropped to mine.
I squeezed them shut. “I feel… You have to stop, or this agreement is over. You promised you would not manipulate me again.” I was pulling him closer without realizing. We were nearly nose to nose.
Harkin learned toward me, hair falling across his brow.
I wanted to brush it aside tenderly. I wanted to yank it out with a scream.
“Seren.” His voice was so soft. “I have not used my mágik on you since that first day. You asked me not to manipulate your emotions again, and I agreed. I have not broken that promise. I would not break a promise to you.”
My breath caught. I pulled away, but he held me tight. I leaned closer—a glutton for this punishment. “No. You did. You must have.”
His hands gripped my face, thumbs brushing away the tears I did not realize had fallen. Harkin repeated his words firmly, “I would not break a promise to you.”
I backed away—and he let me this time—shaking my head back and forth in a silent denial. If his words were true, if the sincerity on his face was genuine… No, I could not consider what that meant or the mix of emotions that plagued me.
My hands tore at my hair, pulling the braids loose as if freeing the strands might free me of the memory of his hands on me. I pulled at the roots, gazing skyward as I struggled to breathe.
“Talk to me, Ren, please.”
“I can’t.” My voice was anguish filled. “It’s too much.”
“Everything will be okay,” he repeated, and I wanted to believe him so badly.
My chest ached, and my breaths came in short gasping puffs.
I would have collapsed to the ground if Harkin had not been there to catch me. His arms wrapped tight around me, anchoring me to his side.
I pressed my face into his chest so he would not see me cry. His fingers drew lazy circles across my back. Tears flowed hot over my wind-chapped cheeks.
“Talk to me,” Harkin whispered again.
“I don’t want to be like this anymore… I used to be so easy to be around—so free.
If you had told me to trust you then, I would have.
I would have without a second thought, but now…
” I thought I could have that again, that lightness in my chest, but it had lasted mere moments before I had torn that hope to shreds.
“You do not owe easy to anyone, Ren. Least of all me.”
A hiccuping sob rose in my throat, spilled from between clenched teeth. “But it shouldn’t be this fucking hard!”
The anger rose again, this time at myself.
“It won’t always be. You are strong enough to overcome this.” Harkin sounded so sure—so unwavering in a way I could not replicate.
“Every time I try… It’s like every step I take forward is followed by another step back. I end up in the same place time and again.” I pulled away, wiped my face on my sleeve.
Harkin stepped toward me, following my retreat, but I raised a hand to stop him.
“Sometimes things get worse before they get better, but they will get better. I promise,” he said, voice gentle and eyes searching.
“Maybe,” I conceded. “I hope you’re right.”
I owed Harkin an apology, but I couldn’t force my lips to form the words through the shame. I had thought the worst of him, yet again, when he had only ever assumed the best of me. He had helped me when I thought myself beyond saving. He trained with me, and he had cared for me these past weeks.
Harkin looked at me—had been looking at me—like he could not wrench his gaze away, and it terrified me.
We were allies. Friends, maybe. The last thing I needed was to fall for the first person I had opened up to in half a decade.
But that was not what these feelings were.
I was only overwhelmed with all of the changes the last few weeks had brought, I convinced myself.
I was grateful to have a partner to train with and someone to depend on.
There was nothing more to it. I would not allow myself to consider it further.
“I know this is still difficult for you, but you’re doing so well.
It's okay to falter, to have bad days. Be gentle with yourself.” His fingertips brushed the line of my jaw so quickly it might not have happened at all, and then he was gone—disappearing into the cottage as if I had not just blown up everything I had worked so hard to accept.
I swallowed around the lump in my throat, blinked away the tears that stung at my tired eyes. I could hardly manage a nod of thanks.
Relief ran over me like a mágik of its own. Harkin had seen me at my worst so many times. He had taken my accusations and given me kindness in return.
I had a feeling I could push and keep pushing—say every awful thing that crossed my mind—and he would still be there to catch me when I inevitably fell.
I didn’t want to do that, though. I’d had a revelation and a moment of weakness. Change was difficult, Harkin was right about that.
All I could do was try again tomorrow.