At some point in my breakdown, the forest sounds went silent, the unnerving stillness sweeping through.
A twig snaps from behind, startling me into whipping around to see Bastian stepping out around a tree.
“Apologies if I’m disturbing,” he says sheepishly as he tucks his hands into the pockets of his trousers and steps closer.
I let out a breathy chuckle. “Certainly not disturbing. In fact, my thoughts could probably use the distraction.” I turn back around to face forward away from Bastian, I bring my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them and resting my chin on top.
I can feel his approach before I see him. He sits next to me, leaning back against the tree stump.
It’s not lost on me that I was sitting in this exact same position with Tom less than a week ago, before… all of this.
How was that only a few days ago?
It feels like it’s been weeks. Months, even.
“I take it you didn’t like the answers you received?” Bastian asks, finally breaking the silence. I can hear the way he’s trying to be cautious with feeling out where my emotions are.
“I don’t even think I know how to answer that,” I laugh. It’s the only reaction I feel like I have at this point. It’s either laugh or I’ll cry, and I think he’s already seen enough of that to last a lifetime. “I think it’s more that I still don’t know how to processthe answers I was given. They don’t feel… real, I guess. Like this is all some sort of twisted joke.”
His hand ghosts across my upper arm to my shoulder, drawing out goosebumps in its wake. His hand halts its path to brush an unruly strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers lightly trail the area before dropping back to his lap. I tilt my head so I can peek at him and find him watching me. His gaze is so intense, and the concern is evident.
I let out a sigh and close my eyes.
Should I tell him?
I need to tell someone.
“Staellara,” he says softly, drawing my eyes back to his. “Do you want to talk about it?”
I don’t even know.Do I?I mean, yes. But do I want to tellhim?
And there’s that word again.
Staellara.
He’s used it a few times now, but I haven’t had the chance to ask what it means.
With a defeated sigh, I release the grip on my legs and stretch them out in front of me. I turn my upper body to fully face him. “I think so, yeah. But I have a question for you, first.”
His gaze holds mine as he offers a small nod.
“What does that mean?”
“What does what mean?” he asks, brows furrowed.
“That word you keep calling me. Stell— or whatever it is.”
His lips twitch up into his familiar smirk. “Staellara.”
“Yeah, that one.”
His hand reaches up and grips the back of his neck. He almost seems… nervous? Why would he be nervous?
“Wait, does it mean something bad?” I ask, eyes widening and leaning back to take him in fully. “Have you been secretly insulting me this entire time? I swear to the gods, Bastian?—”
A bellow of a laugh bursts out of him. It’s so unexpected that it brings a smile to my face even though I was just accusing him of insulting me in another language.
“No, Liv. It’s not an insult. It’s just… a term of endearment of sorts, I suppose,” he says with a smile. I can still see the amusement sparkling in his eyes. “But I’m glad you think I’d insult you in the language of the Fae.” He winks, making me roll my eyes in response.
