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CHAPTER TEN
Dublin 2016
Fionn
Guided by Áine’s soft hand, which Fionn gladly took, they headed down a long narrow hallway, past peeling flower wallpaper and over carpet bereaved of allspringlike it were the home they had lived in for sixty years previous.
He liked the idea of that.
And look, maybe he was reading too much into whatever her hand-holding meant, but having the urge to touch her fulfilled, really delighted him. It was then that a second touch found its way onto Fionn’s warm skin; his awareness of the dwindling time had started to tap on it as if taking the form of the clock’s second hand.
Still, no matter his belief that the next fifteen minutes would be somewhat tainted by the continuous, physical reminder it would end, he’d make the most of it. The urgency, that is. He’d reclaim it as a savouring.
Taking to admiring her wild curls from behind, he wished she’d look back at him. Arch her tempting eyes over her shoulder to pacify his wants. He imagined that one look would force him to press her into the flowery wall with a heavy thud. Devilishly hitch her bare leg in the crease of his arm as she teased her brushing lips against his.
His head shook away that idea no sooner did it occur. It was too much when his hand was already threatening to sweat into hers and ruin the silent exchange synaptically humming between them, like they were all the parts of a thriving forest combined.
“It’s just up here on the left.”
He let the secret destination eagerly fester as his mind deviated to their days in the back of English class. It was the neutrality of it he was considering. How their relationship was easier because theyhadto be there. Settings like the pub or bumping into each other at the shop made them unbalanced. Made him selfish and rude in case they were seen together, and her . . . well, it just made her a greater expansion of the girl he could now barely cope being in the company of.
God, I was awful to her.
Fionn once read about how sensitivity to surroundings was a primal trait of survival. But what was he trying to survive in those moments?
Judgement? Embarrassment because Áine was perceived as odd? The fear of being caught out as lesser than the persona his friends were gullible enough to believe?
Probably all of it. Because the lack of worth he suffered from in his young, corrupted mind was often formidable.
Pulling himself back to the present for his own peace of mind, he concluded this environment wasn’t all that different; though it was a B&B she worked in, it remained somewhat neutral; both forced to be in each other’s company.
His head shook a fraction.
Force wasn’t the right word. That sounded odious to him. Necessity. That was a better way to put it. When they were together out of necessity, it created just the right stimulus for them to connect. But it wasn’t just that with Áine; when theywere alone, there was a sense of peace he could never find elsewhere.
How did he forget that?
Maybe I didn’t. Maybe this is the first time I’ve acknowledged it at all.
They arrived at the last door in the hall. He felt anything could have been behind it. Or maybe nothing.
Her hand fell from his to twist the door’s wooden knob.
He quickly shoved it into his jean pocket to subconsciously preserve her touch and take it with him to Australia. Australia; another thing he was trying not to think about.
She had crowded herself into the frame to battle the stubborn knob, but as if knowing his weird scheme to take a part of her with him, her eyes drifted back to Fionn’s hand like she’d figured him out.
Shit.
“So what’s in there?” he asked, too loud for even his own ears.
“Everything you ever wanted. I mean that in the tailored sense, by the way, not universally.”
The knob clicked, and the door creaked open.
She stepped into the room, him following close behind only to stop no sooner did he enter. Not just from amazement but because there was barely enough space for them and all the pre-existing furniture.
Áine tucked her curls behind her ear, again peering over her shoulder for a fleeting second. This only added fuel to his wants, rather than the pacification he initially presumed it would offer.
