“Thank you. I’m Rami, I’m so sorry to have accidentally barged in on you like this.” I ramble, making me inwardly cringe.
He dips his chin again, both formal and rigid. “I’m Adriel and it is no problem. We don’t get visitors often. Are you from the village?”
“Village? Oh, you mean the town?” Adriel’s gaze doesn’t show any understanding. “Sabletown,” I add for clarification, and he nods. “I’m not from there, but was forced to move in with my grandmother.”
“How does a grown man get forced to move somewhere he does not wish to be?” Adriel’s head cocks to the side, catching the light off the torches in a way that reminds me of a puppy.
“Yeah, well, the courts didn’t give me much choice,” I mumble so softly, I truly hope he doesn’t hear me. Though the way his eyes track me rubbing my fingers against the scars on my wrists might mean that he did. I can see the questions lighting up his gaze, but he doesn’t allow them to pass his lips. Those bow-shaped pink lips, that are just pouty enough to be perfect for kissing.
It’s then that I remember that I don’t have my bag on me; the realization hits me like a brick to the head.
“Shit! Have you seen my bag?” The words rush out in a jumbled mess.
“I did not see a bag with you, but I can show you where Ludo and I found you.” Adriel excitedly takes a few steps in the direction that I assume he wants me to follow.
“Who’s Ludo?” I pry, hoping it’s not some mysterious invisible friend. This dude seems a bit odd, though I don’t get murder-y vibes from him. Just quirky. Likely having lived in the woods alone too long.
Adriel spins around on his toes to face me again as I stand, my headache feeling much better despite my ankle possessing its own heartbeat now. “He’s my animal familiar,” he says, pointing at the kangaroo rat on his shoulder. The little rodent taps his back foot several times and then dips his chin.
“He’s so cute!” I exclaim, and it almost looks like he preens under my compliment. “Wait? An animal familiar? Are you a witch?” That’s right, right? Witches have animal familiars to increase their power, if I remember from the books I’ve read. “Or would you be a warlock?” I scratch the pitiful excuse for stubble along my jawline, trying to remember what I’ve seen in books.
“Warlocks are terms used to mark oathbreakers, traitors,” he says, his eyes darkening and his hands clenching into fists.
My skin tingles as if the air is suddenly charged. It’s the first time I’ve felt truly afraid of the man in front of me. Holding up my hands in surrender, I speak calmly. “Witch it is.” His posture softens at my easy acceptance. “Is that why you live so far from town?” I ask, to change the topic.
“Aye,” he nods. “The church did not condone my practice of magic.” His mouth forms soundlessly around a few words as if he wants to reveal more. When the words fail to form, he closes his jaw, the muscles bouncing irritably in his cheeks.
But I understand exactly what he’s referring to. “I get treated like an outcast there too.”
“Are you a witch?” he questions, his head cocking to the side adorably. His eyes rake over me as if he’s reassessing me. Normally, the action would leave me feeling exposed and itchy, but with him I find myself standing up straighter.
“Nope,” I say, shaking my head. “But they aren’t too fond of the fact that I prefer the company of men over women.”
“You are a sodomite?”
“W-wow, I haven’t heard that term used ever! But yes, I amgay.” This town must have really fucked this guy up.
“Gay? As in you’re happy?” There’s that cute head cock of his.
“Maybe a century ago, but today it means that I enjoy…”
Why am I having this conversation with a complete stranger?
But that cute look of confusion and the thirst to learn more draws me in, and I find myself spilling my guts to this complete stranger in the woods.
“It means I am sexually attracted to other men.” My cheeks heat and I just know I’m blushing. I’ve been told that makes me look even younger, which I don’t need right now standing in front of this perfect specimen of a man who’s probably in his mid-thirties.
His light brown eyes widen and I watch his Adam’s apple bob when he swallows deeply. “Oh,” is all he says before he turns around and continues walking off.
“Wait, did I upset you?” I reach out and try to grab his forearm.
He manages to jerk out of my way at the last second and stares daggers at me. “No, but it is not safe for you here. You need to leave Sabletown.” His voice is stern as he explains all this, dropping at least an octave from the playful guy earlier.
“Ican’tleave,” I snap. The words feel like acid on my tongue, and I avoid eye contact with Adriel, not wanting to see his judgement.
He runs a hand down his face and slouches his shoulders, almost as if he feels sorry for me. “I found you there.” He points to a mess of leaves with my messenger bag lying amongst it. I hate how it feels like a dismissal.
I hate even more how much that affects me. With my head fallen forward, I limp my way to my bag and wipe the dirt and leaves off. When I glance back at Adriel, I realize he hasn’t followed me. “Everything looks intact,” I announce.
