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Seventeen
Connie
I’ve changedinto a loose-fitting pair of slacks and a soft, grey, long-sleeved t-shirt. For a brief moment, I’d considered dressing provocatively, but given it hadn’t worked the way I’d wanted it to today, I don’t. I need Malakai to stay, not leave. I might not get another chance like this again.
Another clap of thunder booms overhead and I jump. For some reason this storm has put me on edge, more so than it normally would. Ordinarily I love storms. I love to wrap myself up in a blanket by the fire and listen to them rage beyond the safety of these four walls but tonight something seems off-kilter. The air is charged and the strange feeling I had the day my mum and dad left, never to return, is back.
Rubbing at my arms and forcing myself to ignore those unwanted feelings, I grab the towels for Malakai alongside a pair of flannel pyjama bottoms that had belonged to my late grandfather, then head downstairs using the torchlight on my phone to light the way. When I enter the living room, Malakai is crouched beside the open fire, stoking the flames. He’s removed his top but still has his jeans on and I’m struck dumb by the way his muscles tense and release beneath the golden veil of his skin. The black swirls of his tattoo seem to come alive as he moves. My skin prickles and a light breeze lifts the hairs on the back of my neck as though a ghost has touched me there.
Another warning, another portent that I choose to ignore.
“Here we go,” I say softly, swallowing the longing in my voice. He places the poker by the fire, rising slowly before turning to face me. I hold out the towels and pyjama bottoms to him. “I’ll grab us something to eat and drink whilst you get changed.”
Malakai nods, his gaze roving over my body as he takes the items from me. When I reach the door Malakai calls my name and I look back at him.
“Yes?”
“I’mstarving…”
“Me too,” I respond softly, dropping my gaze. I understand him completely.
Ten minutes later I have a tray loaded with sandwiches and orange juice. I could do with a warm drink but given the electricity is still out, there’s no hope of that. Pushing open the door, I find Malakai sitting beside the fire wearing my grandfather’s pyjama bottoms and nothing else. Placing the tray on the table I settle down beside the fire opposite him.
“I made us something to eat,” I explain, knowing full well that when he said he was starving he wasn’t talking about food. He doesn’t look over at me. Instead, he keeps his gaze fixed firmly on the crackling fire.
“That wasn’t what I meant,” he responds eventually, still refusing to look at me.
“I know…”
Drawing my legs up to my chest, I wrap my arms around them and just look at him. He’s so beautiful. I know I’m making him feel uncomfortable, but I can’t seem to help myself. He sits staring into the fire whilst I sit staring at him. Eventually I have the courage to speak, to break the rising tension between us.
“Do you want to tell me about your family?” I’m not sure why that’s the subject I decide to bring up. Curiosity perhaps? Maybe it’s just my way of getting him to open up so that I can understand him more.
“No.”
Of course that would be his answer, I hadn’t expected anything else honestly. Doesn’t stop me from continuing, though. “Grandma told me that she’s the King’s godmother. She doesn’t care for him. I’d go as far as saying that she dislikes him which, for Grandma, is unusual. She likes everyone.”
“He isn’t a good man,” Malakai admits. “My family aren’t good people.”
“She said that too.”
Malakai picks up the poker and I watch him as he pushes the pieces of wood around, sending little sparks of flame up into the air. I feel like that piece of wood, as though I’m burning up, catching fire, ready to dissolve into ash the moment Malakai touches me.Ifhe touches me. God, how I want him to touch me. How I want to reach over and trace my fingers over the tattoo wrapped around his arm. I’m almost about to when he begins to talk.
“I’ve run from my family for a long, long time but Ma was right when she said that I can’t run from them forever. Eventually they’ll catch up with me.”
“Is that why you never stay anywhere long?”
“Mainly, yes.” His jaw grits, a muscle in his cheek jumping under the pressure.
“Is that why you’re going to leave as soon as Princess is fixed? Are you afraid the King will come for you?”
Staring into the flames he doesn’t answer immediately. “Partly, yes. I travel the world to get away from that life, not because I fear it or the King, but because I want no part of it…” He hesitates and I hold my breath waiting for him to continue.
“But youareafraid, why?”
“The King, like all his predecessors, uses people as weapons against those he wishes to control. I cannot form long-lasting relationships with anyone because of him, because of what he might do to the people I care about. So I don’t care about anyone.”
My throat tightens and my heart stills. “You have a friendship with Lola…” I can’t help but point out. A little thread of jealousy mingles with my sadness for him. She must mean a lot to him if he’s kept up their friendship despite the danger.
