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I watch him a moment from the doorway. It’s crazy how moments like this, he seems like a different person: unguarded, even relaxed.
Then he looks up, and his whole body tightens with tension again. There’s a moment of silence as our eyes meet, the tension thick enough to cut with one of those deadly looking knives he’s using to slice bread.
“Smells good,” I offer blandly. He doesn’t reply. Instead, he ladles stew into a bowl, and goes to sit at the table. He starts eating, alone, as if I’m not even here.
I scowl.
So, I guess he wants me to ask nicely, despite all the resentment and bad blood between us. Hell, that’s probablywhyhe’s waiting for me to ask. It’s a power trip.
Everything is like that with him.
I’m in no mood for any more of his games, but the stew looks amazing, so I take a deep breath, and ask as pleasantly as I can, “Is there enough for two?”
“Would you like some?” His smirk makes me feel violent. I bite back a bitter retort.
“Yes, I would. Thank you.”
“Go ahead,” he finally nods to the pot, and I rush to fill a bowl and join him at the table.
Damn, it’s good.
The rich flavors of the stew are heaven, and the way the warmth of it soothes me from the inside out is exactly what I needed. Despite the tension still shimmering in the air between us, I find myself relaxing back into my chair, and I can’t help asking Sebastian the question that’s been on my mind.
“These clothes…” I ask slowly. “Who do they belong to?”
He doesn’t answer right away, and I watch as he dips a piece of bread in his stew and tears off a chunk with his teeth. His every movement is deliberate, just like everything else he does, and I can’t help noticing how neat he is. Not a drop of soup spilled. His napkin always at the ready. He’s meticulous.
The way he was attending to my body.
“They belong to Scarlett,” he finally says, and I focus back on the conversation. “I bring her here sometimes.”
His sister. That makes sense.
I tell myself that I wasn’t feeling jealous, but there’s no denying the relief I feel at his explanation. Since we’re talking now, I decide to ask the other question that’s been weighing heavily on my mind.
“What do you think will happen, when they realize we’re gone, and they can’t find the plane?”
Sebastian curls his lip in a hollow smirk. “They’ll assume we’re dead.”
“Oh.”
I suspected as much, but it’s different to hear him say the words. I think of the people I love, and I hate knowing that they’ll assume the worst.Nero, Lily…With any luck, I’ll be able to call in a few days and let them know I’m OK, but still, a few days is a long time to grieve.
But I guess there’s no choice about it now.
“It’s what you wanted, isn’t it?” Sebastian asks, and I have to take a moment to follow what he’s saying. “Me, dead,” he continues, a dark look in his eyes.
“Not dead,” I reply quietly. “Just you wishing that you were.”
He snorts, bitter. “My mistake.”
“You asked,” I reply with a shrug. In a way, it’s a relief, not to have to lie and pretend anymore. My old resentment is out in the open now, I don’t need to act sweet and innocent anymore. “So yes, that was my mission. I set out to find the one thing you loved more than anything and take it from you.”
Sebastian meets my eyes, burning and intense. “Well, you did it,” he replies simply. “Congratulations. Mission accomplished.”
He pushes back his chair, before I can ask what he means. He rinses his bowl, and then walks out of the room, leaving me with the question whirling in my mind.
What did he love more than anything?
