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Kellyn blanches, before hesitantly lifting his hair off the left side of his face.
“It looks good!” I say.
“It looks hideous,” he says, lowering his red locks almost immediately.
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I’m not. I’m missing half an ear. It doesn’t look right. And I don’t hear quite as well on that side.”
“But the skin is perfectly healed around the cut. You’re going to be okay.”
Kellyn doesn’t say anything, staring at the wall behind me.
“Are you… upset because I’m the reason he hurt you?” I ask hesitantly.
“Twins, no! Ziva, I don’t blame you at all. How could you have known that’s what he would do? You saved me! You got me out of there. You brought me here.”
“Then what is it?”
He sighs. “I’m worried others might look at me differently. That they’ll find me… less.”
“That’s stupid. Nobody would think that. If anything, it’s proof that you’remore. That you survived something horrible and are stronger for it. You’re allowed to feel upset for what happened, but don’t be so hard on yourself. And if anyone treats you any differently, you tell me. I’ll give them a piece of my mind.”
Kellyn’s grin is just a ghost of a smile as he looks down at me. “And what about you?”
“What about me?”
“What if you treat me differently?”
He’s not—he doesn’t seriously think I wouldn’t want him anymore because of it?
“Kellyn,” I ask, “just how vain do you think I am? Just how vain areyou?”
“I’m being ridiculous.”
“Yes!”
He nods to himself once, as though satisfied, then gives me a true smile.
And then Ireallycan’t ignore my body any longer.
“Excuse me for a moment.” I rise and go to the washroom, shutting myself in to take care of my basic needs. When done, Ispot a hairbrush on the vanity and take the time to run it through my hair. Then I glance in the mirror above the washbasin.
It may be silly, but I haven’t had much time to look at myself over the last few months. It’s not like we had any mirrors on the road or while we were in prison. Kellyn’s mother owned one, but it was mounted on the wall in her bedroom, and it felt impolite to invade her personal space.
My face has bloomed with freckles, more than I’ve ever seen on me. All the travel, which has exposed me to the sun, has caused them to multiply. They’re darker across my cheeks, lighter across my lips. My short hair has lengthened. It’s always grown in quickly. When we fled from Kymora, Temra cut my straight brown hair down to my chin. Now it brushes my shoulders, the ends flipping outward slightly. I used to wear my hair up in a ponytail, but it’s been too short for that for so long. And now I don’t own a band. Maybe I could locate one eventually—Temra doesn’t have any in here.
I’m stalling, I know it. I look into my own blue eyes.It’s all right. There’s nothing to be scared of. It’s just Kellyn.
But he wouldn’t be here if he didn’t want to talk. And talking is scary.
As if there’s anything further I could do to embarrass myself in front of this man. We’ve been through hell together.
I take a deep breath before leaving.
Kellyn’s not in the room.
Yet, instead of relief, I feel irritation.
