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It might not keep Reign out of his head, but maybe it could buy him or Noel some extra time with what little they had left.
23
NOEL
The rush of water nearby was the biggest, most refreshing signal to take a break and enjoy a light breakfast after another few hours of riding post-chase. His stomach growled as he kicked down the bike stand, and they rifled through their bags for a rationed meal. But God, the cookies still tasted just as good, despite going stale.
He still craved the sugar after the last bite was gone and cursed himself for staring at Grey’s lips when he licked away the final crumbs. Noel wiped his hands against his pants and shoved himself to his feet to keep himself from acting on that urge. So he scooped up his bag and found his small container of soap.
“I’m going to go wash off in the waterfall,” Noel said, clacking the tin in his hands and fidgeting uncontrollably.
Grey absently began to nod before reaching for his own bag. “Yeah, I should probably clean up too.”
Heat coiled in Noel’s chest, spreading outward way too rapidly for comfort. “I’ll be quick then,” he blurted, trying to ignore Grey’s confused look. He jogged off toward the small cluster of trees around the river and started tearing off his shirt. Muttered curse after muttered curse slipped out, faster the second he heard footsteps trailing behind him.
He tore off his pants before he could stop himself from getting decision paralysis and dumped his clothes behind a bush, only taking a chunk of soap with him into the cold depths. Noel ducked under the falls, scrubbing at his face and keeping his eyes closed as he rinsed away all the dirt and grime from the past few days.
Just don’t think about Grey.
He shook out his hair and swiped water from his eyes just in time to catch Grey dunking his head into the river. The arch of his slender frame resurfacing gave him pause, like he was watching fair folk indulging in the woods. Noel snapped to attention again and hurried out to collect his clothes.
At least he felt refreshed by the time he strolled back to their small camp, but when he collapsed into the grass, thoughts of fair folk replaced all his fantasies of Grey. He plucked at the soft, green blades pinned under his legs and thought of the dagger that fair folk wielding, along with its sibling in the possession of those looters.
He sighed and fell back with a grimace, throwing an arm over his face until he heard the light crunch of boots against the ground. Noel focused on Grey’s face outlined by the midday sun in a halo of light, driving another knife through his heart.
“Are you okay?” Grey asked, crouching down as Noel pushed himself up.
“Yeah. I’m fine. Just… thinking about what to trade since I think you’re a little more prepared than I am.”
“What do you tend to do with your free time? Do you write? Forge?”
Noel huffed out a laugh and ran a hand through his damp hair. “I typically hunt in my free time. Or hike. Or…” He shrugged. “Pretty much nothing that I can physically give to the fair folk without pissing them off because I killed something sacred to them.”
“O-oh…”
Noel shifted and glanced away with his hand massaging the back of his neck. The more he thought, the more he cringed at just how little he had to offer to the fair folk, let alone to Grey—which, in itself, was a ridiculous notion. How long were they going to be alive for him to actually be able to act on those feelings? How would he prove to him that he’d be worthy of being a safe person for him to embrace? How long could he keep his mouth shut before he acted on that suppressed urge to touch him?
He had to hold back a laugh at the idea that Grey could very well not want anything to do with him, and he could only imagine what the horrified reaction would be if he presented a hemomancer to his parents when they’d constantly warned him over the years. But this one had sacrificed flowers to knit Noel’s wounds back together instead of prowling outside the town gates for hours like a crazed animal with darting eyes.
Noel stood and brushed himself off. “We should probably get going before we waste too much daylight.” He spared Grey a glance, and his heart ached with longing at the concern written all over his features.
Soft, damp waves curled around his brows, dipping toward that bad eye without completely obscuring it like it usually did. Not a single mark outside of that, in contrast to his own collection of discolored scars. He really did look like something from the Otherworld when his skin was only smattered with freckles instead of dirt.
Noel’s fingers twitched, attempting to revolt from his stern self-instruction not to cup Grey’s face. So instead, he grabbed up his bag to busy them and motioned for Grey to hurry up.
* * *
The sun was halfway gone at the edge of the world by the time they reached the hulking obstruction of a city along the trail. Towering buildings connected with cables and cars pulleying up and down each pathway left him slack-jawed, but he was even more stunned by the line in front of the gate for entry. Trucks and cars idled nearby with people perched on hoods or gates. Smoke puffed from two men’s lips before they flicked their cigarette butts on the ground, and a low hum of displeasure emanated from Grey—something akin to a whine or a wince.
“You need to stop caring so much about what the fair folk think,” Noel whispered, rolling to park alongside the others.
“They’re part of the reason why the Hunt exists in the first place,” Grey muttered.
Not really something Noel could argue, considering it was blatantly disrespecting nature. Grey squirmed when Noel cut the engine, and their bodies finally pulled apart after another long set of traveling hours in which Noel fantasized about being some sort of mercenary and medic team wandering through the land as if they wouldn’t potentially be hunted again tonight.
A woman, flanked by two men, tucked a clipboard under her arm and motioned for the first vehicle in line to head inside. Sputtering dark smoke poured out of the exhaust, and Noel’s leg started to bounce. Another car let through, and he began tapping his keychain dangling from the ignition. His eyes darted to the sunset. “They need to hurry it up,” he hissed.
“Will they turn us away if night falls before we get in?” Grey asked.
