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"I like Kyla," she said and opened her eyes. "From Red Rain."
"My warrior?" Kyla was a grumpy side character who only got occasional dialogue during the side quests my fantasy characters went on. "She's horrible at everything."
Noah's smile lit up her face. "And yet everyone still loves her. Her mentee always stands up for her. Her captain still believes there's potential there. She's almost forty and doesn't have everything figured out. I like that she's trying. I like that people love her even though she's not the best she can be yet. It gives me hope that…I can be loved even though I'm not at my best yet. Even if I never live up to that potential, you know?"
I placed my hand on top of hers. "I know."
Noah flipped her hand over so our palms faced each other. My mind swarmed with questions—I wanted to know why she didn't think she'd reach her potential. Why did she seem weighed down by sadness when she mentioned being loved? Were her nerves as sensitive as mine when our hands touched? I traced the lines on her fingers, trying to figure out where to start. She watched the shapes I made, her fingers catching mine ever so often to give me a squeeze.
"Can I be honest with you?" Noah whispered, beating me to the question.
"Of course."
"I think we can find you a better special place," she said and laughed when my mouth fell open.
"What are you talking about? This place is incredible."
"Its magic might be lost on me. Maybe I'm the problem. Maybe I don't get the appeal of concrete and grime."
"You just have to keep coming. It'll grow on you."
She pressed her lips together, trying not to smile too much. "I could do that…as long as you don't mind the company?"
"If it's you, I don't mind at all." I wanted her, wanted us. The realization was a soft, small wave that barely reached my ankles, and I was going to wade in further, be completely engulfed in whatever an us would look like.
Chapter Sixteen
Noah
By the time I got home for the night, I was still too excited to even think about sleep. Amaya had already turned in, so talking her ear off wasn't an option. Even if it was, I wasn’t sure I could put into words what I was feeling. Talking wouldn't burn my energy like art could.
I ignored the small ache in the middle of my hand as I picked up my pen. The sting had been bothering me on and off all night; I could ignore it better once the pen hit the paper. As soon as I started getting lines down, I lost all sense of self and time. Pain, sadness, and desperation have always been great motivators. The memory of Sage's smile, her hand on my thigh, fingers brushing my cheek, was a hell of a lot more powerful. I couldn’t let her know, or I'd never hear the end of it. I wanted to let her know, because maybe she felt the same. My heart drummed at the idea of her feeling even half of what I felt tonight.
I hunched over my desk until the sun peeked through my misaligned blinds. As soon as I felt the heat of the morning on the side of my face, I panicked at how long I'd spent drawing. Amaya was awake and rummaging around in the kitchen; she called my name after a few minutes like she usually did, asking if I wanted half of her bagel.
"Morning." I joined her in the kitchen and prayed my lack of sleep wasn't obvious. I'd completed a full chapter for my comic in record time. I'd done the sketching, line art, and color faster than a normal sleep cycle. My hand throbbed, acknowledging the feat. I massaged my palm, too thrilled to worry about the pain.
"How long have you been up?" Amaya tossed me a glance over her shoulder from where she stood at the oven. "I thought I saw your light on when I passed by."
"I don't know." It wasn't exactly a lie. I didn't know where the time went from when Sage dropped me off to when I sat down at my desk.
"Ballpark."
I cleared my throat, ready to change the subject to something far more interesting. "She kissed me."
Amaya's brow raised. "She kissed you? Sage kissed you?"
"Yup." I was breathless as I remembered how many times we'd done it. I grabbed a cold water bottle and pressed it to the back of my neck to calm down.
"Woah, wait." Amaya turned off the stove so she could give me her full attention. "Isn't she the girl we hate? The one who used to make fun of your sketchbooks in college? The one who didn't want you on her team in the first place?"
"She wants me there now…I'm about ninety percent sure." I tilted my head to the side, considering.
Amaya coughed out a dry laugh. "You were just ranting to me a few weeks ago about Sage defacing your sketchbook."
“It wasn't defacing.” I shook my head. “I might have exaggerated at the moment. Sometimes, doing that feels natural when I'm dealing with her."
Amaya threw up her hands. "Damn it, Noah. How the hell am I supposed to root for you two if I don't know the real story? Is the girl toxic or not? Wait, don't answer that. I can figure it out with one question."
