Chapter 28 #3
“I’ve always wanted to see what you do in there,” a voice says, just as she is about to buzz herself in. Kit almost drops the beaker, she’s so startled. She turns and of course it’s him, because who else would be lurking in the corridor at midnight?
“Aaris, you gave me a fright!” Kit says, trying to catch her breath. For multiple reasons. The primary one being he is wearing his sleep clothes, black shirt stretched tight across his biceps as he grins at her, his eyes crinkling at the edges.
“I figured you could use an escort. You never know what kind of scum might be crawling the hallways at this time of night.”
Kit snorts a laugh. “You, obviously.”
“Oh, c’mon now. I thought we were getting along?”
She’d thought so too, but then he’d grown cold the other day, and they’d not spoken since she’d offered to patch him up. She wasn’t sure what she’d done, but he’d mostly avoided her, and she’s tried to focus on the work at hand. But now, standing here in front of him, she’s hurt and confused.
“I thought so, too,” she says, quietly. “Did I do something? The other day, after Aquidium?”
Task bites his lower lip, his gaze penetrating. He uncrosses and then recrosses his arms, as if creating a barrier between them. “It wasn’t you.” He lets out a breath, looking to the ceiling. She can tell he wants to say something else, but isn’t letting himself.
Kit remembers the beaker of antidote still in her hand.
As much as she’d like to hash it out with him, the antidote is more important.
“Look, I need to get this into the cooling chamber. I was going to inject the infected cells with the antidote tonight to see if I could get them to bind before tomorrow.”
“Kit, I…come back after, will you?”
Task
He knows he shut down yesterday morning as soon as she’d suggested patching him up, but he couldn’t have her touching him.
He’d been careful to avoid it after the spontaneous hug in the library.
Because of the pain, yes, but also because of the slippery slope he finds himself on. Best to keep his distance.
So much for that. He’d been wandering the corridors, unable to sleep, and he had seen her down the hall, heading towards her lab.
He’d caught up to her before he could stop himself, though he also didn’t really try.
Being near her was like being near a flame on an exceptionally cold night, comforting and warm.
He knew she sensed it when he’d tensed up, and he wanted to explain, but couldn’t get the words out.
He waits for her now in the darkened lounge on the floor above, the only light coming from the dim sconces on the wall. He lies on the couch, head on the arm, staring at the ceiling. He wonders if she’ll come.
“Sorry.” He turns his head toward the entryway, sees her standing there in the backlight of the corridor. “It took longer than I thought. I didn’t think you’d still be here.”
“Still here,” he says. “I told you I’d wait all day for you, didn’t I?”
She walks towards him, slumping down into the armchair to his right. “That was yesterday. And I didn’t think you were being serious.”
“I’m deadly serious, love.” How he wishes he didn’t mean that, but oh, how he does.
He looks at her, eyes closed, chin resting in her palm, and thinks that maybe tonight isn’t the night to have this conversation. But then she opens her eyes, gaze locking with his, and it’s like he’s been electrocuted, suddenly more awake than he’s been all night. “What did you want to talk about?”
He finds himself telling her about the journey to Aquidium, the strange planet, the difficulty they’d had in retrieving the pagadium. About Voss and Caelinus and the Force and the most recent mission he’d had to undertake for Draven before he’d left Nexarium and fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
She’s leaning towards him, her mouth agape. “You what?”
Task drags a hand over his face. What the hell is wrong with him? Blabbering on like an idiot, spilling secrets to her. “Can you pretend I didn’t just say that?”
“I could, but I don’t want to.” She tilts her head. “Do you have to do…that often?” She means killing people. Which Task should absolutely not have revealed, but he has apparently thrown caution to the wind, along with his brain.
He shrugs. “Part of the job. They’re traitors, Kit. Criminals. They know the punishment for stepping out of line.” His justification sounds hollow to his ears.
“Oh, Task,” she sighs. “You can’t really believe that’s right, can you?”
He’s silent, letting her words sink in. The way she said it wasn’t judgmental, really, but it carried with it a sense of incredulity. As if she truly couldn’t believe that the Nexarian system worked the way it did, that punishment for treason was death.
But that was how Nexarium has operated since Task was a boy, it’s all he’s ever known. He supposes that there is another way. Perhaps Draven could simply lock up his enemies, instead of having them assassinated.
Finally, Task shrugs, feeling defeated. He doesn’t want to admit anything to her, doesn’t want her to view him as somehow less than. He already doesn’t feel like he’s worthy of her, even as he knows he’s one of the most powerful men in the galaxy. “Please don’t say anything.”
Kit gazes at him, her eyes soft in the low light. “I won’t. You can trust me, Task.”