I don’t remember much of that night, but blood always triggers something inside that holds those memories: the screaming, the metal screeching, and then the silence.
I’d been unable to hear from my right ear since that night, something that had seriously set me back when playing, but Auntie hadn’t cared; she’d only made me practice harder until nobody even questioned my hearing.
I’d earned so many scars from her, but she told everyone they were from the car accident, and they believed her.
The world tunnels around me as I watch the blood run down my finger, but just as fast as my panic starts, it’s gone. A large gloved hand wraps around mine, pulling it up and out of my line of sight before my finger is wet.
What the hell?
I look up to find him leaning over my chair, my hand still in his, my finger resting between his lips, and my brain short-circuits.
Should I stop him? Probably.
Will I? Hard pass.
Not only is the blood no longer affecting me, but there’s something so strangely sexy about this moment that it sends my heart racing for a completely different reason.
After what feels like an eternity, he pulls my finger from his plush lips with a pop, licking it clean, and all I can do is follow the path of his tongue.
Well, that and clench my thighs against the feeling of my now aching core.
I’m almost positive this isn’t a normal reaction to someone sucking blood from your finger, though I guess that’s not very normal to begin with.
“All better,” he says, and his voice is so low and rough that I have to bite back a very inappropriate whimper, sinking my teeth into my lower lip.
His lips turn up in a smile, and his eyes look like they shine as he leans in closer, making me forget how to breathe. Slowly lowering my hand, I gasp when I see it is, in fact, completely healed.
“How…” I croak, words failing me as I inspect my finger.
“It wasn’t very deep, but don’t poke at it, or it might start bleeding again.” He waves my hand away, and I let it fall before I look up at him and find him staring intensely down at me.
“Tell me about him.” Felix nods to the picture of me and Jordan, pulling my attention back to what I was doing before, as he drops into the chair right beside me.
“Jordan was my twin.” I take a deep breath and reach for the necklace that hangs around my neck. I haven’t taken it off since he gave it to me when we turned ten.
“He was born diabetic. Twins often have medical problems, but other than that, we were healthy, and it never stopped him.” I smile, remembering him and all the energy he had for every sport, event, and, of course, for me. Almost every memory I have with him is a fond one, even when it was shit, because he made sure I was okay.
“He was always so worried about taking care of me and making sure I was happy. He said it was his job as my big brother.” I roll my eyes even saying the words aloud. It was two minutes, and he never let it go. “But he was terrible at taking care of himself. I always had to remind him to test and not to eat crap. He thought he was indestructible.”
I’d talked to Dimitri about Jordan earlier, but not about how he died. I’m sure with access to my file, he knows enough. This is harder than just talking about him, though.
“He’d had a tournament. I was supposed to be there, but I’d gotten low marks on an exam, and Auntie forbade me from going as punishment.” That’s not exactly true. I wasn’t told I couldn’t go because of the grade, but I wasn’t allowed to be in public with a black eye or my split lip. That punishment I earned with that grade, so it’s kind of the same thing. “He never wanted to test after a game, said it ruined the high, and when he went to bed that night, his sugar dropped low enough that he never got up again.” My lip wobbles, but I manage to get it all out without breaking down, and that has to count for something.
“I should have been there…” I choke on the words as my throat becomes thick, and I shake away the thoughts of how I could have changed everything. I’ve relived that day so many times, thinking of all the ways I could have saved him, been there when he needed me.
It doesn’t change anything, though; the damage is done now.
I can’t look at Felix, can’t bear to see the way he will look at me now. The only person who knows it’s my fault is Auntie, and she never lets me forget it. I’m sure he won’t want to hang out with me anymore now, but I can’t deny it feels good to have told someone.
“If I’d been better, he would be alive.”
“Wren,” Felix says, my name firmly pulling my gaze back to him, where I see a grim look on his face.
I’ve never heard him say my name before; usually, he just calls me Eternity, though I’m not sure why. But Julian calls me Pookie, so I guess nicknames don’t really have to mean more than whatever comes to mind.
“I very highly doubt you could have done something to hurt someone. Especially not someone you clearly care so much about.”
“You don’t know that. You don’t even know me,” I argue, though it sounds pathetic even to my own ears.
