Aqueous Passage. Krystyna Faroe
she sit opposite him, why this close so he could feel every quiver or twitch that went through her? He closed his eyes and drew in a breath.
“What’s wrong?” Her voice was soaked with concern and anxiety and he felt a pang at causing her distress.
“Nothing Fern. Why do you ask?” He kept his voice level and emotionless as he looked ahead at the foraging bodies collecting food.
He felt her twist to look at him, felt her eyes scan him until her hand rested upon his hand. He wanted to pull it away, to not feel the warmth of her palm sear through the back of his hand, not feel the fingers close gently around and squeeze.
“I don’t believe you. Something is wrong.” Her voice was soft, gentle and cajoling; she was leaning into him like a siren, coaxing and dangerous.
He found himself leaning back into her wanting to be seduced and led astray. He felt her shoulder sinking into his arm, rubbing against him like a pet cat vying for attention and he knew he wanted to respond, to indulge her, stroke her, enjoy the tactile pleasures of body against body.
He stiffened and felt her tighten at his reaction. Was she playing with him? Why was she doing this?
He shifted in his seat and looked toward the exit.
“I’m tired. I’m going to my room.” He started to rise.
“Do you want me to come with you?” Her voice was electric, filled with expectation.
The question surprised him and slowed his movement until he was finally upright and turned his glance to her, he knew his look was reprimanding. Her face showed embarrassment at realizing she had gone too far and she dropped her eyes in shame.
“Don’t play games with me Fern.” His voice was perhaps too strict and condescending but he knew it was time to stop being children. They were adults and their impulses and sensations were man and woman not boy and girl anymore.
“It was alright for you to play games with me under the pagoda but there the equality ends. Is that the case Elm?” Her red face blazed with her hair as it tumbled backward from her abrupt upturned face. She stared at him her body equally rigid and angry.
“There is no equality here.” He saw her lips purse in readiness to spurt out a biting retort but he beat her to it. “There can never be equality in this relationship, when you know that I love you and you do not love me.”
He almost smiled as he watched her mouth drop and her shoulders droop as her body gave way to uncertainty and surprise at his honest response. He cringed inwardly as he watched the tip of her tongue rest upon her bottom lip in thought. He couldn’t stand this any longer.
“Goodnight Fern!”
He traversed the rest of the bench not waiting to hear what she had to say. He didn’t want to know. For tonight he didn’t want her in his mind but he knew she would be, she was always there. As he turned away he heard her petulant response.
“But I do love you Elm.” It was said softly, almost hidden beneath the mumbles and chatter around them but he heard it as if it had been yelled.
He stopped, knew he should turn and go back but didn’t, instead he kept walking until he left the dining hall and all the bubbling of conversations going on there. Her words still echoed in his head, so he shook it as if they would tumble out from the action, they didn’t. She loved him but as a friend not a lover, of that he had no doubt, and he could no longer continue with the charade he was playing. It was unfair to him and to her.
**********
Fern sat in shock, she was trembling, tears were wanting to form in her eyes and she wanted to bang her head upon the table in front of her to make them tears of physical pain rather than what they really were. She couldn’t deal with mental pain again, not so soon after…no, she had to bury it and her feelings for what was between her and Elm. He had chosen to hurt her. Hurt her after he had carried her through the mayhem, sorrow, guilt, fear, he had brought her life back to her. So why was he tossing her aside like a piece of discarded peel?
She was staring blankly across the room when her eyes focused on Hemlock. He was staring at her intently but upon noticing her eyes having caught his he immediately focused on his meal. Her mind went through scenarios. What had happened to Elm to make him change his attitude toward her? He was close to Hemlock. Hemlock would know.
She slowly rose from the table, quickly whisking away a stray tear droplet on her cheeks and moved in the direction of Hemlock. He looked up seeing that she was heading toward him and almost looked like he wanted to run away too. What was going on? Had she suddenly turned repulsive? She kept her eyes focused on him so he had no doubt she wanted his attention and saw that by doing this she gave him no escape.
Smiling warmly she sat opposite him. Congenially he smiled back and put down his fork.
“My apologies for disrupting your meal.” It was a lie, her need to know what was going on was more important in her mind.
“What can I do for you Fern?” His brown eyes hadn’t wrinkled with his return of smile and she sensed he didn’t want this conversation to happen.
She looked at his plate. “Envillion again! Will we ever eat anything else?”
He gave her a smile but again it did not reach his eyes.
“It is all we have Fern. Aside from gnawing on table legs we have no other choice.”
She cringed at the smart reply, this wasn’t going well. She gave a small hollow laugh and knew it sounded as such. “You’re right of course, we can’t complain until we have no food at all.”
He stared at her all the more, she wriggled in discomfort. How was she to broach the subject at hand?
“I couldn’t help but notice,” she looked across the room as if her point of topic was there. “That Elm looked…well, out of sorts.”
Hemlock shrugged. “Was he?”
Fern gave him a hard stare, one that said don’t mess with me, we both know he wasn’t happy.
“He wasn’t in a good mood when I sat with him; in fact he seemed quite upset over something.” Before he could deny anything she added. “You must have noticed, you’re a close friend of his, you couldn’t miss his lack of spirit.”
She gave a silent heave of triumph as she saw Hemlock was cornered and chewing on his lip in reaction. “You’re right he didn’t seem himself.”
Again a short response that drove her to frustration, quelling it she smiled again and soothingly responded. “I’m worried about him Hemlock.” Leaning forward she watched every tick or quiver on his face. “I don’t want him to be sad.”
“Then leave him alone!”
She sat back in shock at the tart retort and the thin lips that had said them. The lips softened and became full once more as he now leaned toward her.
“You’re not good for him Fern. You make him jealous of your feelings for Oak and you make him a bad person because of it.” He was coaxing her now, the tables had turned and she could feel only panic at losing her only friend.
“But he’s my friend.” She blurted out, her lips trembling slightly and pesky tears once more wanting to form in her wide eyes.
“No, he’s your lover. It is what he has always been. A lover held at arm’s length and used for company.”
The brown eyes were like deep ridges, deep with thought and knowledge. She was embarrassed by it, embarrassed that he knew so much about her relationship with Elm. A relationship she had never dissected and understood before and the enlightenment of which made her feel ashamed.
“I…never meant to hurt him. I do love him.”
The eyes were dissecting her now and she felt she was crumbling under their intensity for seeking the truth. “I love his friendship.”
Success