Chapter 4
VALEN
I flip the last page of the book I’m reading and close it with a sigh. Setting it on top of the growing stack next to me, I wander over to the tall windows and observe the rain as it slides down the panes.
There seems to be a consistent pattern of rain and cold weather. It’s been limiting my chances to sit out on the rooftop, which I don’t like.
Soft footfalls echo from the bedroom, and I tune in to the soft, melodic sound of Ava’s voice as she hums.
She is a fascinating creature. She speaks often, a contrast to myself, and seems to be attempting to teach me the ways of this new world. I appreciate the effort, but it’s been overwhelming and sometimes unpleasant.
Ever since our night on the roof, she’s brought home a different cuisine for me to try each day.
I’m not a huge fan of any of it, blood tastes best, but I don’t want to say that and hurt her feelings.
It seems to make her happy when I try new things, and I like seeing her smile.
That smile of hers makes some feeling I don’t have a word for swoop through my belly.
Ava’s floral scent drifts through the apartment as the bedroom door opens and she steps out in a pink raincoat and boots. She’s proven to own many clothing items that are pink.
Turning, I admire her fully. Pink hair falls in soft curls around her face, long lashes grazing her cheeks when she blinks and lips shining with an unknown substance. I can’t help but be enamored by her natural beauty. A pretty blush stains her cheeks as it often does when I stare.
“I’m heading out to go furniture shopping,” she says cheerfully. “Do you want to come?”
I continue to stare in silence, processing her question. There’s still so much I don’t understand.
“I mean, you don’t have to. I just thought I’d ask.” Ava tries to backtrack.
“What does this furniture shopping entail?” I speak the words slowly, foreign on my tongue.
“Well, we’ll go to a huge warehouse that has different pieces of furniture and decor which I can then order and have shipped here,” she explains with a flurry of hand gestures.
“I want to replace the couch because who knows what Zav and Celine got up to in here. Plus, Celine’s old neighbor’s soul is probably trapped inside one of the cushions.
I’m not about to be haunted by some frat boy ghost because Zav can’t handle a little competition. ”
I mull over her nonsensical explanation and waver on going or not. It doesn’t sound particularly fun, but when she nervously tucks hair behind her ear, I make my decision. If she’s continuing to make an effort to get to know me, I can do the same.
“I will accompany you.” I stride toward the door and grab my jacket.
“Oh, great!” Surprise coats her words like the thick syrup she likes to put on her pancakes.
A rare smile fights to stay on my lips, and we head to our destination in the metal contraption she calls a car.
“The flamingo- or salmon-colored pillow?” Ava holds up two pillows that look exactly the same to me.
“That one.” I randomly point toward one, and Ava gives me a stern look.
“You didn’t even think about it. Don’t you see the shade difference?
This pillow skews warm toned, and this one cool, it changes the whole room dynamic.
” Ava attempts to explain shades of pink to me once more, but I’m too fascinated by the way her lips move as she talks to pay attention. The plump shape of them is mesmerizing.
With a sigh, she lets her arms fall and plops the pillow I didn’t pick into the cart.
“Okay, let’s head toward the back. I need a new vanity.” Ava pushes the small cart that holds her purchases. I offered to push it for her, but she seems possessive of the thing.
I’ve been steadily brushing up on modern times and trying to read multiple books each day. I’m friends with the ladies at the library since I visit so often at this point. Ava keeps me on my toes, though. With the speed at which she speaks, I don’t always understand her.
Turning the corner, I spot art hung on the wall. It’s a stunning piece made of shades of blue and silver. Whorls of paint showcase a sparkling night sky with the moon peeking through clouds. My body has a visceral reaction and a memory tugs at my consciousness.
Closing my eyes, I can almost smell the crisp air. Soft wisps of wind flutter strands of my hair, and I take a deep breath, the expansive space free of any burdens. I feel more grounded than I have in a long time and try to hold on to the feeling as long as possible.
A soft tap to my shoulder breaks the reverie, and I turn to find Ava staring at me with wide blue eyes. Her delicate hand is not an unwelcome weight.
“Are you okay?” She removes it when she realizes I’m staring at where it’s resting on my shoulder. “I called your name like five times before I came over here and found you looking comatose.”
With a short glance back at the painting, I start to walk toward her cart that’s now overflowing with items. How she managed to find more things in such a short time, I do not understand.
“Come on.” She grabs my hand, and I gasp at the touch. If she notices, she doesn’t show it. She places my hand on the side of the cart. “Keep ahold here so I don’t lose you again.”
I feel like I’m being scolded, but for some reason I don’t mind.
She pushes the cart to the back of the store, assessing the things she calls vanities, explaining that they’re used for makeup.
“I don’t like any of these,” she gripes, hands on her hips. Her nose scrunches adorably. I’ve noticed she does that when she’s slightly annoyed. “Oh, well,” she mutters. “I’ll have to check elsewhere.”
“What about your couch?” I change the subject.
Just like that, Ava forgets about the vanity and pushes the cart to another section of the store. She tries out multiple couches, patting each one for me to join her.
“What do you think of this one?” she asks, leaning back on the cushions.
“It is fine.”
She exhales a puff of air that has her hair fluttering about her head. “Surely you have more of an opinion than that.”
“The color is … questionable,” I settle on after searching for a proper word.
“It comes in other colors.”
“It is fine, then,” I say again.
She groans. “You hate it.”
She’s up and moving to the next couch before I can retort. I follow her to the next one.
“I did not—”
She gives me a pursed-lip look.
“I didn’t hate it.”
My little pink mate seems to love things she calls contractions where I must combine one word with another, but it hurts my brain.
I picked up a few from my captors and reading, at least. Humans today talk differently than I’m used to.
While I was held captive, I learned other languages from those around me, but I never talked to them and not using my voice all that time makes speaking foreign.
“Thoughts on this one?” she prompts.
I appreciate that she’s making me a part of things, though I’m sure she’d rather not.
“It’s”—I look to her for approval, and she nods—“a weird shape.”
“You’re right.” She frowns. “Let’s try that one.” She points.
I follow her to the one she’s indicated.
“Ah,” she sighs happily as she sinks into it. “This one is perfect, don’t you think?”
“Perfect,” I agree. But how could I possibly say otherwise when I see how obviously she loves this particular one?
“It can be arranged in multiple alignments,” she explains. “Ooh, and look.” She holds up swatches of fabric. “It comes in pink.”
“You like pink a lot.”
“It’s my favorite color,” she says with a smile. “It makes me happy.”
“Then you should get it.” I don’t know what makes me do it, but I reach over and grab a strand of her hair, wrapping it around my finger.
Her breath catches and her eyes drop to where my finger holds the strands.
She stands suddenly and says a quick, “I think I will,” before she flutters her way back to the cart. “Come on, Valen. We still have some things to look for.”
I follow her with a small smile.
Hope is a feeling I haven’t dared to feel in a very long time, but Ava gives me that. Maybe, given enough time, she can heal the hole that’s been left in my soul.