12 | damsel in waiting-3

It wasn't until I'd shut the door to the bathroom, leaving Miles to take a shower, when I realised that something was terribly wrong. The ninth round seemed mild compared to everything that they'd been put through thus far. Which could only mean one thing - the tenth and final round was going to be insane. Without a second thought, I was pulling out my cell and sending a quick message to Marcel: I will need to know what's going to happen in the last round asap. Her reply came barely moments later, which wasn't a surprise since she always had a phone with her: I'm on it. ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ When Miles came out of the bathroom, I'd managed to school my feature into a calm expression that gave nothing away. But he still saw through me, and a frown wedged its way on his forehead as he stared at me. "What's wrong?" I watched him towel dry his hair, damp brown locks falling into his eyes, and I wondered if it was the best idea to let him know what I'd came to realise moments ago. No - I couldn't. The thought of having to make him wait on tenterhooks was enough to send me shaking my head. "Nothing much. I saw your Dad earlier," I blurted, as an afterthought, when he still didn't look convinced. "We talked a little." "Fuck," he muttered, under his breath, but it was loud enough for me to catch anyway. My eyebrows rose high on my forehead, lips twisting into a smile as I heard the unfamiliar word spill from his mouth. It just seemed so unlike him. "I see Greg's been a bad influence on you," I remarked lightly, amused when he blushed several shades of red. It was always heart-warming to see glimpses of the shy boy I'd met that first day at the beach. "It wasn't a bad conversation, to be honest." "What did he say?" "Well, here and there, really. Nothing much - " "Darcy," he'd taken a few steps forward, and his expression was grave, eyes serious, "what did he say to you?" Breaking away from him, I wandered over to the living room and sank down on the couch. I could still feel his probing gaze on me, and with a sigh, I glanced over at him. "Come sit and I'll tell you." Heading over quickly, he sat down beside me. It was an instinctive action, but I immediately found myself curling up against his side, my head resting against the damp towel where it was hanging around his neck. I felt him stiffen a little in surprise, before he carefully placed an arm around my shoulder. The contact was light, each movement of his seemed calculated and his inexperience shone at every turn. "Your Dad remembered me," I began softly, "and after I'd asked where you were and he said he didn't know, he asked if we were dating. He doesn't exactly approve of well, this, basically and - " but I trailed off when I noticed the expression in his eyes. A blend of crushed rejection and resignation that made me pull away, if only to get a better look at him. "Yeah, should've known," he murmured, almost inaudibly. He seemed so heartbroken for a moment that my heart ached just looking at him. But it lasted for a brief few seconds before he glanced up at me, fixing an apologetic smile on his face that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Listen, I'm sorry you had to hear that, you - " "No, stop," I hushed him quickly, fiercely. "Don't ever apologise for him because you and he are not the same person." He was silent for awhile. When he spoke again, there was a distant look in his eyes. "Sometimes, I-I'm terrified that I will be." There was a tremor in his voice that was hardly there, but I could hear it. "My brother used to be terrified of that too. He started out fine. He kept telling me that he didn't want to be like our father, that he'd do anything to not be him. But as the years went by, he became a little more unfeeling, a little less humane. Did you know - " he swallowed briefly and shut his eyes. When he opened them again, they were carefully blank. "Did you know that he was the one who started all the initiations and hazing in Corvus?" My throat was dry. And the room was so silent I swore I could hear my own heart tremble. "What?" Miles laughed, but it was a bitter one that made my toes curl. "It's irony at its finest." "Why didn't you tell me this before?" I couldn't help but ask, even though the words left a sour taste in my mouth at the mere hypocrisy of it all. Who was I to ask him this, when I hadn't even ever mentioned the best deal-breaker of all? "I-It's not something I like talking about. It's sort of like the old saying - what goes around comes around; and who would've thought that the person who came up with the hazing had a brother who would have to suffer through it too? Actually, no one ever thought that, because I never told anybody about wanting to join Corvus. I never even imagined joining Corvus." I thought about the likelihood of Miles's brother setting up the initiations if he'd known that Miles would be a part of them merely years down the road. And then the answer came to me, clear as the water's reflection on a warm summer day. "Until he died," my voice was a mere whisper. The calm expression on his face shuttered, then, and he inhaled shakily. "Until he died," he repeated, his voice flat, but it did not deceive me, not one bit. I desperately wanted to know the how and the why and the when. But shoving my curiosity firmly aside for a moment, I leaned in to grasp his face between my hands. Keeping my movements gentle, I stroked my thumbs against his cheeks softly, tilting his face up so that his lips met mine. Our lips brushed, just the barest of contact, the lightest of friction, but even then, I felt shivers down my spine. I yearned to press my lips firmer against his and deepen the kiss until he was feeling nothing, not pain, not hurt, simply nothing but how real this was, how real I was. But I couldn't. Not this time, at least. Kisses did not mend broken hearts that easily. "You are nothing like him," I told him instead, when I pulled away. "Nothing like them. It's blood, and blood runs deep, but it doesn't necessarily mean that when you're old you'll be just like your father, or that when you get into Corvus you'll be just like your brother. Because you're paving your own way each step you take, and trust me when I say this - you are going someplace else, you are becoming someone amazing, you are you and no one else." I froze in surprise when he leaned forward and closed the gap between us. It was unlike him to take the initiative, but it was special, thrilling for him to do it. So I let him, my eyelids fluttering shut as he kissed me. His kiss felt experimental, like he was trying to memorise the contours and dips of my lips, pausing every so often as though he expected me to push him away. And when I didn't, when I simply sighed into his mouth, matching him with soft, daring nips, he took a deep, shuddering breath and sank further into the kiss. I allowed my tongue to brush his bottom lip, felt his fingers reach up to grip my waist tightly. Then he let me in, my tongue slipping past lips, teeth, and I kissed him slowly, languidly, like I had all the time in the world. He tasted of lazy afternoons and painful memories, if either of those things had a taste to begin with. And even though I'd gained control of the kiss, teaching him everything I knew, I was slowly forgetting it all - his inexperience, my experience; his insecurities, my confidence; it all mingled and blended until I felt nothing but a familiar, hungry ache beneath my stomach, his tongue in my mouth, his hair beneath my fingers and his fingers on my skin. And beneath my shut eyelids and uneven breaths, amidst the thundering of my heartbeat and skittering of nerves, I felt grounded. Anchored. Real, in a way I hadn't felt for a very long time.