Chapter 64
Davian
A Candle Among Light Bulbs
Golden Wounds
Ahmet Kenan Bilgic, Turgut Mavuk
Finding Quill proved to be the challenge of the evening. And the mere thought that she was carrying a loaded gun with her didn't make it any better. On the contrary. It made my heart race.
I should have been honest with her. I should have destroyed that gun that day.
This was the price I paid for my carelessness.
I combed every terrace, dodged former colleagues who acted as if we had been the best of friends, but I couldn't even find Lara, and the nasty suspicion that Lily was behind it all was driving me crazy.
What was she doing here? Of all days, today. At this gala.
She was here because of Lara. And since we had never fought over custody in court, and Lara was no longer a minor, she had every right to. Still, it got on my last nerve.
She may have carried Lara for nine months and struggled with all the pregnancy symptoms this life tortured women with, but she had disappeared from the scene for fourteen years, hadn't shown the slightest interest in her, hadn't once asked about her well-being, let alone written to her.
What did she think? That Lara would forgive her?
Lost in thought, I rushed around the next corner of a side corridor and ended up in the guest cloakroom area.
No Quill.
I wheeled around, stepped back around the corner into the empty hallway, softly lit by dim wall lights, through which the orchestra music from the hall drifted, and crashed right into someone.
Diamonds
Hannah V, Joe Rodwell
We both staggered back, and my heart skipped a beat when I caught sight of the only woman I wanted to spend this and all the evenings to come in this godless existence with. If only I could.
She had this gift of making me forget everything that weighed so heavily on my mind with just her eyes, making all the thoughts that threatened to drown me with every breath fade away.
Quillon Veritas was the air I needed to breathe.
“Feather...”
I didn't even try to stifle the desperation in my voice. She should know that she was important to me. That she was my priority. Whenever that had happened...
Shocked by the realization, sheer immobility spread through me.
Don't be a fool. You knew from the first night. Ever since she stopped you from pulling the trigger.
“Davian...”
Quill seemed out of breath. As if she, like me, had been running through this house.
She was still clutching the small, hard, midnight-blue velvet handbag tightly in her hands. The urge to snatch it from her and throw it into the nearest fireplace was devastatingly strong.
The sides of her fingertips were bloody and torn, as so often, and it pained me to be unable to do anything about it, to be unable to hold her hand when she needed it most.
Just like when I had spotted her hours ago in the entrance hall wearing that dress, I couldn't break free from my trance.
That dress, everything about her, was like a fever dream of ink as she glided through the ocean of lights of this gold-plated society. A warm candle among harsh light bulbs.
All the lights in the world could shimmer around her, she was the only light in this merciless existence in whose glow my eyes wanted to perish.
A light so memorable and rare that I would recognize it anywhere.
Even if impermanence caused us to crumble, if fate tore us apart, my core would find hers again. In this life. And next.
Finally able to move, I stepped toward her until there was less than two feet between us, driven by the panic that she might flee from me again.
The truth? I was desperate, driven by the shadows in my head that seemed unable to find salvation in anything except in every slightest touch of her soul with mine.
On its own, my hand wandered to her waist, slid over her satin skin, in which I would love to bury my fingers. But instead, I pulled her toward me, didn't fight the hardness in my pants, and held her gaze.
She swallowed. Something she often did when she was close to me, and it would be a lie to say it didn't turn me on.
It made my lips throb with longing, tempted me to lower them to her neck and kiss my way down as slowly as possible, letting my breath dance across the sensitive fibers of her skin and moistening them with the wetness of my tongue.
I wanted to slide that goddamn dress off her body, touch every millimeter of her, give her everything I had.
Two bodies, one apology.
What was I thinking? Why was I subjecting myself to this torturous color film in my mind?
Every alarm bell in my head was warning me to back off, to keep the distance that was supposed to be better for both of us than it actually was, and to treat her the way a friend would.
Instead, I lowered my lips to her ear, pushed her hair aside, causing her to inhale sharply, and let my hand slide further down her back before I began to whisper.
“Dance with me, Feather.”
Arcade
Duncan Laurence
Never again would I have this moment. And I wanted to have danced with Quillon Veritas at least once in my life.
I put my other hand on her waist, pulled her closer to me as gently as possible, almost letting myself be swept away by the overwhelming tingling sensation that spread through my stomach the second she placed her arms on my shoulders and looked up at me.
This was the riskiest thing we had ever done. But it was worth every second.
I rested my forehead against hers until our noses touched. Much too close to her lips than I should be...
Her breathing quickened.
I wished I could feel her heartbeat, slide my hand under her dress between her breasts and feel the chaos I was causing inside her.
Instead, I sank into her crystal-clear gray eyes, surrounded by an ocean of soft freckles.
This hurt more mercilessly than it should, making my heart cramp.
She wasn't mine, never would be.
Her hand, out of reach. And yet far too close to not want to reach for it. A loss that completely consumed you from the inside before you even experienced it. Homesickness for a home that was not allowed to exist.
It would kill me. Not having her would kill me.
I began to sway her gently back and forth to the rhythm of the music, slowly turning us to the melody and letting the pent-up violence of emotions explode inside me.
It wasn't just ink that she filled my batteries with.
“You make me feel hope.”
And the realization that this was all I needed to keep going felt like something that could repair the bottom of my battery. But I needed her for that. Only she would be able to show me the way. The one I had been too blind to see myself.
Her pupils dilated, captivating me and making my heart skip a beat.
Certain that I would kiss her at any moment if she kept staring so desperately into my soul for even a second longer, I pulled her head to my chest.
Quill immediately let her arms wander under mine and then around my body before I continued to sway her back and forth in an embrace.
“You too,” I heard her whisper. “And it's killing me.”
My heart made an overwhelmed leap. For her.
I wanted nothing more than for her to be able to hope again, to leave this life behind and start over. Even if she had to do that without me, in the arms of someone else.
The thought carved itself into my chest, piercing me to the core. But it was the only right thing to do. And she would understand that someday.
Me too... hopefully.
With me, she would never be able to fully heal.
“Davian.”
Quill eased away from me, and as always, it felt like a small loss. A tiny step toward the big one. Whenever that would come and I would have to let her go so she could have the chance at a fulfilling life.
Secrets and Lies
Atli ?rvarsson
“There’s something important I have to do.”
Confused, I raised an eyebrow, letting go of her, not ready to step away from her.
She did.
And suddenly she looked the way she had when I had found her here.
“Can I help you?”
She hesitated. There was something in her eyes that piqued both my curiosity and my concern.
“No.”
She looked away, pressed her lips together, and scanned the hallway before looking back at me with a serious expression.
“I’ll be right back in the hall.” She put her hand on my forearm, and I wanted to reach for it, but she stepped back and let go. “I promise.” The seriousness in her gaze only intensified my concern. “And then I'll tell you everything.”
What was going on? Had something happened?
I wanted to talk to her, wanted that weapon finally away from her body, wanted to drive her home and write and talk with her for the rest of the night until she fell asleep at my desk and I could carry her to bed.
The mere desire made me realize how infatuated I was with her presence. And I could only begin to imagine how much it would hurt to one day see her in the arms of a better man.
Quill smiled, but it was a sad smile. Then she turned around and hurried down the hallway, turning into the hall.
“Oh, Davian.”
Grand Jury
Atli ?rvarsson
Someone stepped around the corner, clapped their hands three times with a delay between each clap, and grinned at me wickedly, causing my heart to skip a beat and my stomach to knot.
“How touching.”
Troy stepped around me and my shoulders tensed.
How had I not heard him? How long had he been standing there?
“Joseph's oh-so-perfect prodigy doesn't seem to have his depressing life under control.”
My jaw tensed and helplessness ambushed me out of nowhere.
Troy stopped in front of me and tapped me on the chest.
“At least, that's the ploy he uses to wrap young female students around his finger.”
For fuck's sake.
He had seen us dancing. He had overheard us. And whatever he thought he knew now was enough to ruin not only my life, but Quill's as well.
“I knew it,” he chuckled quietly. “You’re fucking the Veritas bitch.”
This time I didn't hesitate. I swung my fist. With so much force that Troy's nose cracked as he staggered backward.
Before he even had time to fully straighten up – holding his nose – I grabbed him by the collar and pushed him against the wall with violent rage.
“Whatever you think you know, I warn you not to do anything stupid. Quill never did anything to you.”
Troy regained his devilish grin as blood ran from his nose.
“She can rot in hell.”
I gripped him tighter and he groaned.
“But you, Davian… You’ll be ruined when Father finds out about your dirty little secret.”
Shit.
This was definitely not going according to plan. And it was my fault.
Why had I been so careless? In public?
Troy tore himself free from me and stepped away from the wall, backwards, in the same direction Quill had disappeared into the hall.
“Looks like someone's going to lose their job today,” he taunted melodically, while despair took hold of me.
“Troy...” I muttered, but he turned away from me and strode toward the hall, ignoring me – something he was usually terrible at –, as if he had just won the lottery.
“Troy!”
He disappeared around the next corner.
My hands clenched into fists and I punched the wall, hurting myself in the process, while the marble remained undamaged.
With a pain-contorted face, I started to move.
This score had not yet been settled.
When fate and impermanence
form an alliance against us,
is unconditional surrender all that remains?
Or will we ignore the powerlessness of our
worldly existence until we bleed to death miserably
on the battlefield of our alliance?
– Leaking Batteries Diary