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“Only if I get to call you delicate snowflake flower thing from now on.”
“I think I like aggele mou better.”
His eyes brightened. He dipped his forehead close, touching mine. “You are aggele mou.”
MRS. MORGAN
Victor had rolled his chair over to the long table Silas had been working at. He was hunched over the laptop, scrolling through text messages. The computer monitors were gone, back into the dragon desk, the black mat deceptively concealing. The reversed clock I’d hacked remained on the desk, dead center.
I entered the room quietly, closing the door behind me. “I thought Silas already went through all of them,” I said softly.
He jerked back, turning his head around. He sat back in his chair facing me. “I was curious.”
“About what?” I crossed the room, sitting in Silas’s chair.
Those fire eyes followed my every movement, as if trying to figure out my mood. “I guess I was wondering what other guys were trying to talk to you about. North always gets those notes.”
I glanced at the computer screen. It was tilted, a glare from the light above our heads concealing it from my view. “Anything interesting?”
“Not really.”
I bit my lip, pretending to study the screen anyway. I rubbed absentmindedly at a spot on my elbow. After talking with Silas, I didn’t know where to start. “I’m sorry about earlier.” That sounded good.
“Why are you sorry?”
The question caused me to glance back at him. I thought at first he maybe didn’t want to talk. His fire eyes flickered to life, curious. “I know you and the others are looking out for me. I didn’t mean to bicker.”
“You don’t have to be sorry for telling me what you want.” Victor leaned forward, his eyes intent on my face. “I won’t tell you no unless there’s a good reason.”
“I know,” I said. “It’s just I was feeling a little ...”
“Too crowded?” he asked. “That we’re being overprotective?”
I nodded.
His smile softened. He stood, letting the chair roll away. He held out a hand, palm up. “Come with me.”
I bit back the urge to ask him where. I slipped my hand into his, standing.
He guided me to the double doors on the other end of the room. He opened one and stepped back.
Behind the doors was the third floor balcony I’d seen earlier from the outside. I blinked at the onslaught of natural light. I stepped out, feeling the cool patio floor on my bare feet.
The balcony overlooked part of the grounds, but mostly I was looking out at the other homes along the street. Most of them were beautiful, with pale white, pink or green painted siding and exquisite gardens and architecture. Still, the homes were very close to one another, and I thought perhaps there were people who could see us, too. That alone made it seemed crowded. There was an awkward sense of wanting to enjoy the balcony and the view, but also of being watched. I felt my cheeks warming, wondering if someone was looking out their window now, wondering who the girl on the balcony was.
Victor stepped up next to me, planting his palms on the balcony rail and leaned on it. “What do you think?”
“It’s a nice neighborhood.”
He chuckled. “You don’t like the house.”
“I haven’t seen all of it yet, but I like the inside just fine.”
“But you don’t like where it’s at.”
I wanted to say it was fine, but I had the feeling he was testing me. “I think I’m used to living with more space. This feels ... crowded. I feel like people are watching us.”
“Which is why my parents bought it.” His fire lit up. “And the reason why I hate it.”
My eyebrows hunched. “You’re on stage all the time, aren’t you?”
“Not because I want to be.” He crossed his arms over his chest and spun away from the view to lean back against the rail, turning to me. “I don’t remember how long I’ve been playing piano. I think I’ve always been able to. What I do remember was the first time I stepped on stage, and my father ordering me to play. When I clammed up in front of everyone, he screamed at me.”
I tilted my head at him, no longer interested in the third-floor view. His eyes were more interesting. “How old were you?”
“Six.”
My heart paused and my breath stilled in surprise. “Silas said you were the ... prodigy?”
Victor rolled his eyes. “Maybe when I was little. They like to tell you that when you’re eight and playing Mozart. They think it’s cute. I barely tolerate playing now.”
“It isn’t fun?” I asked.
“I hate performing in front of a crowd of people who aren’t even listening.” He dropped a palm on his neck, rubbing, staring back into the house. “The concerts are attended by people who want an excuse to get dressed up and get other people to gawk at them. And when I’m not playing, I’m expected to attend parties and participate in charity events and submit to interviews.”
“And you don’t like it.”
He shook his head, pursing his lips.
“Because you don’t like the attention.”
“There’s only a few people in this world I give a damn about what they think of me.” His eyes met mine, and the fire engulfed me. “You’re one.”
My cheeks radiated. “Can’t you quit? If you don’t like it, can’t you tell them you don’t want to do it anymore?”
“The Academy wants me to quit. They encourage giving it up if I’m not happy. We don’t always get to do what we want, but the Academy is built to work on your strengths and your passion. You don’t make it far if you don’t at least enjoy some of what you’re doing.” He shook his head. “But I’m willing to stay with it for now. My position makes me more useful. I endure it.”
I traced a fingertip along the rail’s edge. “But you like what you do for the Academy?”
“I love it.” His hand sought out my chin, tilting my face toward his. “I get to do things that matter, with people I care about. I used to hate playing piano a lot more. Now when I do, even though I don’t like it, knowing that some of what I do helps us, it makes a difference.”
“If it’s what you want.”
His eyes blazed. “I want to know what you want, too, even if I disagree. You don’t tell enough people what you’re thinking.”
“I try.”
“I know.” He swept his fingers across my cheek. “You don’t have to be afraid to tell me. I meant what I told you before. I’d do anything ... I’d give everything to get you to let me in.”
“Victor?” I sensed the conversation turning to something a little more personal than Academy and other matters.
“I’m not always the most patient person,” he said softly. His gaze slid from my eyes to my cheek, and down to my lips. “And with you, I can’t hold it together at all. I see those green eyes of yours and I want to know everything you’re thinking. You’re the puzzle I can’t figure out.”
I had nothing to say in reply. With the way he was looking at my mouth, I was afraid to say anything at all.
“What do you want, Princess?” Victor asked. He lowered his head, his eyes drifting up to meet mine. The fire blazed in his eyes. “Please...” he breathed, begging with such sincerity.
My heart was dying to respond to him with something, only there wasn’t anything I could think of. It was his eyes that seemed to steal my voice. I was desperate to answer him. I wanted to.
He pressed his fingers to my cheeks, and slid his thumb across, until it traced the corner of my mouth. “Let’s start with your birthday. Name something. Anything.”
His thumb near my lips sent waves through my body. It numbed my mind. It wasn’t unpleasant at all, but my mind didn’t want to focus. I forced out the truth. “I don’t want a ... thing.”
The thumb paused and an eyebrow arched. “I need to get you something.”
“Can’t we just do something? Together?”
The thumb started aga
in, tracing over half of my lower lip. “You mean a date?”
“Y...yeah,” I said, and suddenly I did know what I wanted. I wanted it all the time from them, I just didn’t know how to say it until now. “It doesn’t have to be a physical gift, right? I mean, I want you to show me things you love to do.”
“But this birthday is about you.”
“But I don’t know what I like,” I said, feeling sure about this. “I mean, I’ve been kind of limited for a while. I think I might like to try everything, and I don’t know where to start. Maybe you can show me what you like. Maybe I’ll like it, too.”
“You might not like it.”
“Maybe I’ll like it and maybe I won’t, but I’ll find out. We spend time together, but we’re always busy and working and hiding and running away. Let’s do things that aren’t trying to save someone.”
