A Sight to Behold
Unbelievable.
Her lips parted in an attempt to voice her fascination. Words passed through her mind, but none would do this justice. She just turned, round and round, taking it all in. Earning her a chuckle from Lucien who wandered next to her.
It had taken over an hour’s walk, pushing past white, weighed down, creaking branches, frost spilling into her knee-high boots. She’d grumbled to Lucien, much like Donkey in the movie Shrek, are we there yet’s echoing out through the silent forest.
Now though, she understood. She′d happily walk ten hours more for ten seconds of the light show dancing across the darkened sky before her.
She’d asked her foster parents a thousand times for a visit to Yellowstone, if not that, any natural park would do. It had never come to pass. But this, it could make up for lost time.
Dark greens mixed with soft pink hues, clashing against the brightest of blues.
Many times had she watched it on YouTube, on an endless loop, wishing she could lay eyes on it in real life.
Her small, cracked laptop’s screen had held the picture of an aurora with colors just like tonight’s for years on end.
Maybe it still held the same picture today, before it got shoved into an evidence bag.
She made another pirouette. None of it came anywhere near the real thing. She knew that now.
Lucien had taken her to see the Northern Lights.
“It’ll be here for a while, you know.” Lucien said it so lighthearted, almost casually. But her chest ached, eyes glued to the sky.
“I don’t want to miss a single second.” There they were, the things called words. For a second there, she thought she’d lost the ability to speak.
“I thought you might feel that way.” Kate tore herself away from the sight, glancing over her shoulder to see Lucien spread out a thick, rugged blanket over the frosty floor. He walked around it, smoothing the edges down with care. “It’s why I took the necessary stuff with me.”
Food and a blanket. A picnic beneath twinkling stars.
A scene out of a book. Were it not for the tiny fact he was her captor, and she was the captive.
Kate shook herself, not today, not now. She wouldn’t let it bring her down.
Even if it was the last thing she did, she’d remain here and enjoy it in full.
Hand over her heart, she stared up at the sight in wonder. The cold whipped around them, burning her cheeks, blowing snow over the blanket, if Lucien’s grumbling voice behind her was any indication. It wormed its way into her neck, tried to reach her every limb. Whatever.
“I could never name all those colors.” She muttered. White hues joined in, brightening the sky, fading and appearing again, like ghosts, if they indeed existed.
“It’s like they’re partners in a dance, unwilling to step onto the other’s toes.” Lucien appeared next to her, head tilted up in thought.
Kate grinned at him, surprising herself. “Sounds like that Edgar Allan Poe book of yours has delivered, huh.”
Her companion snorted loudly, closing his eyes as the wind swirled, flakes darting in front of them.
She saw his chest expand, breathing in the chilled air with a soft smile splayed around his lips.
The killer enjoyed it. No, not the killer.
Lucien. The slightly kinder version to his alter ego, the one who relaxed in the middle of nowhere, opening his eyes to stare up at the aurora with awe written on them. Her aching heart clenched together.
“You’re looking at me that way again.”
“What?” She stiffened. “What way is that?”
“Like I’m some curiosity, a puzzle you can’t quite figure out.” His gaze held hers, searching her for what, she couldn’t tell.
She glanced back at the sky. Cutting his search short. “Can you blame me?”
“No.” He turned back, black boots crunching lightly over the snow before graciously bending down to sit on the blanket, a deep sigh in tow.
“That sounds like an old man sigh.”
Lucien snickered. “Well, dear, when you’re in your mid thirties…” He trailed off, shaking himself before changing the angle. “Besides, I just got my insides wrecked by your fists. I think I deserve a pass for a light sigh.”
Mid thirties, ten or so years from now. Would she still be alive? Judging by Lucien’s reaction, he wasn’t too sure. Her gut spasmed, conflicted by his actions, his words.
He’d been right. Lucien was a puzzle to her, a Rubicon. A riddle you could never quite solve, the answer slipping beneath your fingers like thin sand. Or akin to… well, snow.
Kate didn’t want to admit to it. This side of her that had never felt… a safe touch, a hand on a shoulder while someone told her ‘we’ll get through this’. That wanted to see the miracles of nature and relax against a traveling companion. To be naive for once.
A part of her wanted to believe that he was more than the person who poisoned people at the Christmas table. Who scrubbed his car clean from blood, left a girl to fend for herself. Naive indeed. But it weighed on her, caught in a constant battle between growing trust and disappointment.
A dull thud echoed, repeating itself. She glanced at Lucien, who padded the blanket next to him. “Come sit. You’ll strain a muscle if you keep staring up at the sky like a marmot.”
She snorted loudly. “A marmot, right.” But she padded over anyway, flopping down onto the edge of the blanket.
Lucien lifted the rucksack he’d been carrying into his lap, leaning over to rummage through its contents. Judging by the bulky, stretching fabric, it held a lot. Black, as per usual. She wondered if he even owned any other color in his inventory.
Plastic crinkled within, a water bottle emerged, he handed it to her.
“I’d say drink fast, before it’s as frozen as a brick.
” Next came two baguettes wrapped in crinkling tin foil, and glass jars filled with tomato sauce and brown, thick-crusted veggie balls?
He ended with a square glass package. Prying off the lid to show her a smooth chocolate cake, topped with extra thick milky chocolate.
A whiff of cinnamon tickled her nose, and Kate squinted at all the food, mouth watering.
“I missed the sign saying there is a drive through five-star restaurant.”
He laughed, self-confident smirk plastered to his face. “A picnic should have good food, not smudged sandwiches with a thin layer of whatever splattered in between.” He didn’t wait to push the cutlery into her hands. It wasn’t even plastic, but actual stainless steel spoons for the dessert.
Kate shook her head, biting into the bread. Flavors tingling her tongue, pepper, a special kind of salt he used. And something yellowish, looking like egg, peeked out between the baguette. She mumbled, mouth half full. “What’s this?”
“Scrambled tofu. With a butt load of spices. And tomato tapenade.”
“Hmm.” She nodded happily. “This… is real fucking good.”
“Who knew, huh.”
“What?” She shot him a curious glance.
“That I’d have other skills.” He tilted his head. Still wearing that same confident look.
“It is surprising.”
He leaned over, playfully nudging her shoulder, before biting into his own food.
Kate wolfed it all down, before long only crumbs were left behind, save for a smudge of chocolate, but that too was gone with another swipe of her spoon.
She sat back, leaning on her forearms, catching sight of his raised eyebrow.
“Not a word.” She warned him, he raised his hands up in surrender, wisely keeping his mouth shut to focus on his own food.
Damn. Seems like I can be scary too.
She sighed with the colors dancing in front of her eyes. So incredibly beautiful and yet it had her feeling heavy. Something about the air, the show of light, maybe the training she’d had, made her blurt out. “Thank you.”
He turned, spoon halfway to his lips. “For what?”
“For this.” She waved a hand. “And… earlier.” When he offered himself up as a target, taking her rage in stride. Relieving some of the weight that had been resting on her shoulders.
A curt nod. For no words were needed. Yet, she saw his mouth open and close, the clench of his hand around the spoon.
“You said he,” He swallowed heavily. “Tried to force himself on you.”
Kate froze. She’d seen him digest the info, but had never expected him to bring it up. Then again, he’d already known. She realized that the moment he told her, “Whatever happened in the past, I’m not him, okay.”
“Flashes.” She whispered. “It always comes in flashes.”
“The past?”
She nodded, hesitantly. Opening up about her youth was a tricky thing. Like opening a can of worms better left in the dark, on a shelf gathering dust. But lately, there was this lingering feeling, a need to share, bring it to life. Something she had never done before.
“Repressed.” Lucien mumbled.
Her head bobbed. “I can’t even remember my mother’s face. Her voice slips through, sometimes.” Kate gazed over the world of ice, surrounding them at every turn. Needing to ask. “What do you know about my youth?”
He put the lid back on his food. Half eaten, he shoved it back in the rucksack before answering. “That you were placed in foster care after a horrifying car accident. You were adopted soon after by the Withers family, and faced life in their… care.”
More, there had to be more.
“All of them died, right?” She knew the answer, but still. There was this hope that her new ‘family’ had lied. Another brutish joke they played on her.
But Lucien nodded once. “You were the sole survivor.”
Her parents, her little sister. Gone in a split second.
“It’s just,” She clenched her fist, knuckles whitening. “It feels like I’m not the only one left.”
“Happens with such sudden…” He trailed off.
“Deaths?” She offered.
“Yes. The brain can’t fully digest it, especially at that age.”
Eight, she’d been eight.
“About what you said earlier. It’s why you froze during the traffickers’ attack, isn’t it?” He asked.
“Yep.” She thought that would have been it. Case closed. But he pried it right back open.
“I’m sorry you had to go through that.”
Kate kept her eyes on the sky. “I slipped away the day after.” Her hand closed into a fist. Memories colliding.
“Went to the counselor of my case. Foster care.” She clarified.
“She didn’t believe me. Then I came in the way I’d left that place.
Through the window.” Her knuckles whitened.
“I got to the dining table.” The one where she had woken up at…
surrounded by dead bodies. “The counselor had gotten there before me. She told them everything. I’ll never forget those faces. Or the consequences.”
“Foster care.” He spat the words, voice as raised as she’d ever heard it. “The words don’t match.”
“No, they don’t.” She rested her chin on her knees. “Back then it felt as if… it only happened to me. It was only later that I discovered how deep it went. The visit to the shelter was another confirmation.”
He gazed over the world of ice around them. “Once you get into the thick of it, you can’t unsee it. The cracks in humanity.”
She finished it for him. “They run deep.”
Lucien stared at her, silence filling the space between them. Kate shifted, tearing her gaze from his. It felt… good. To bring her thoughts to life. Whatever he’d done in training, it had cracked something wide open. Kate could only guess what would come peeking out from that hole within her.
There was one other thing she wanted to air out, for it swirled relentlessly through her mind, attacking her during the late hours of silence.
“I haven’t cried once.” It was vague, but he caught the meaning right away.
Lucien showed no sign of surprise. “I haven’t seen a single tear slide down your face on their behalf. Unsurprising.”
“No.” She pulled in her knees, resting her elbows on them. “Something is wrong with me. Clearly.”
“Incorrect. They aren’t worth your grief.” He stretched out like a cat, before leaning back, laying himself flat on the blanket. “We as a society should stop showing compassion to those who carry none of it. You understand that, subconsciously.”
A heavy snort escaped her.
“What?”
She resisted the urge to bump his shoulder. “You’re one to say.”
“Society can learn from someone like me.”
“Pssss, sure it can.” She shook her head.
“Don’t believe it?”
“Can’t say I do. I do however find your confidence and beliefs, astounding really.”
He scoffed. Pushing up to mirror her position. Knees up, leaning on them with his elbows while frowning at her.
“What?” Kate tilted her head in question.
“I don’t bite, you know…”
“Huh?”
He motioned with a hand between them. “You’re about as far away as possible, one inch more to the outside and you’ll find yourself having a cold pants.
Add to that the strain on your neck from looking up.
” He waved an accusatory finger, scolding her.
“It’s an injury waiting to happen, don’t think it’ll get you out from under training. ”
Okay, if he wants to play. I’ll bite. Kate laid a hand on her heart in mockery. “Excuse me, sir? Says the one who is sighing and grumbling like a horse in his fifties!”
“Are you calling me old, dear? Because I don’t need a training room to show you wrong.” He shot her a teasing look. “Wanna go for round two?”
“Do I want to roll around in the snow to feed your ego? Which might I say is already the size of the moon? No thanks.” She crossed her arms over each other, defending her chest from the icy wind tugging on her clothes. Fighting a shiver from rattling her teeth together.
“Lean on me.”
She gaped at him. “Wait… what?”
He tugged on the blanket, bringing her closer to him under loud complaints. “I said, lean on me.”
“And why would I do that?”
“Purely selfish reasons, for example so you don’t turn into an ice princess. The cold interior thing you’ve got going on is working for you.” He laughed at her incredulous face. “The exterior shouldn’t freeze along with it.”
“And what’s in it for you?” She squinted at him. “Purely selfless reasons?”
Lucien grinned. Setting flame to her sparking nerves.
“Purely selfless.” He winked again, his signature move.
“I promise.” He rubbed his gloved hands together.
“Besides, it’s cold as hell. So maybe, just maybe…
not entirely selfless after all.” He stuck out his tongue, making her laugh at the playful, even childish move.
She sucked in a breath, taking a second to weigh the pros and cons of his offer.
He waited patiently, with that all-seeing gaze fixed on her.
What’s the worst that can happen, right?
Kate relented. The need for warmth winning out. Plus, she’d never tell him, but her neck was kind of starting to ache. The view was entirely worth it though.
She scooted closer to him, hesitantly closing the space between them until there was near to none left. He shifted, warmth blossoming against her side until they sat shoulder to shoulder, staring up at the dancing sky.