Page 16 of At The End There Was You

When Winter took a careful glance at him, she caught him looking at her. “What?” Had she said something wrong again?

“I’d give you a head start.”

“It is a nightmare, Azriel.”

“A good one.”

She narrowed her eyes on him. “You want to hear me scream and shiver from fear, isn’t it?”

“I do,” he said, standing and heading towards the upper floor. “Just not from fear.”

Her lips parted as she traced his slow movements towards the end of the library shelves until he disappeared between them entirely. All of the sudden feeling too aware of herself, she glanced around as if searching for someone else who had heard what he’d said.

They had eaten dinner quietly. From time to time, she’d thrown an odd glance at him, but then the piano spook had somehow caught her doing so and decided to play an ominous melody every time she had, so she’d stopped looking at him altogether. When Winter put the chamomile tea before him and then the plate of biscuits which she was sure he hated, he finally looked up at her.

Azriel took a sip, still looking at her over the simple rim of the cup and raised a brow.

“I could have poisoned it,” she lightly said.

He took another sip, his lips curving into a taunting smile that had her squirm on the spot. “Have you?”

“I guess we will see.”

His dark eyes gleamed and the smile stretched into a grin. “What else have you done to me, Winter?”

A strange sensation was pooling in her stomach at the way he asked her that. “Well, there was the poison, hoping you’d choke on the biscuits, the spiders in your bedding, and we can’t forget the cold compresses. I'm trying to freeze you to death, though I think you might freeze us all to death with your icy stare instead. But you’re smiling now, somehow.”

“It must be the poison.”

“It must.” She chewed on her lip. “You didn’t say anything during dinner.”

“Were you waiting for me to say something?”

“I was wishing you’d sing me a happy jig, but I would be fine with just words.”

He leaned back on his seat, one elbow propped back on the rest. “What sort of words do you wish to hear from me, Winter?”

She liked how he said her name, how often he said it. “Small talk about the weather, gossip amongst the newest Mage scandal that only a few know, and things of the sort.”

“I’d rather talk about you.”

Winter could feel her skin turn red. “What about me?”

“Yes, about you. Tell me.”

She realised it then. “You were waiting for me to speak first, weren’t you?”

He rubbed a hand over his clean-shaven jaw. “I’m not a good conversation starter.”

“Just speaking is fine, Azriel. You don’t need to be good at it.”

“Fine for you to say, you’re good at it. Starting and ending, both.”

Winter was suddenly about to change her name to Summer from how warm her skin felt. “I just say what is on my mind. Dark and brooding, or not.”

“There is usually nothing on my mind,” he said, looking at her more intently. He looked like he had more to say, but he simply swallowed and looked away from her.

“Nonsense. Who can silence their mind?” She thought about it for a moment. “Wait, people can do that?” She didn’t let him answer. “Why would anyone want that? To just…live with themselves like that. In emptiness and silence.”