Theea
Yla
I let out a breath as Sohalia stays put, even though I can see the flicker of instinct in her eyes—the one that says back away, danger. It twists something in my chest, knowing I caused it. Still, she doesn’t flinch when I reach for her shoulder, and that means more than I can say.
“Halfway across the gym?” I try to tease back, but it comes out sheepish. “Generous of you to spare me the full distance.”
While she talks and moves with me, I move toward a nearby shelf stacked with old linens and training gear. Beneath it, half-tucked in the shadows, is a squat keg with a tap and a bucket beneath it—probably meant for filling canteens. I turn the spigot, and sure enough, cold water rushes out.
“Ah—perfect.” I grab one of the rags—clean enough, by the looks of it—dunk it fully into the water, wring it out just enough to keep it from dripping, and carry it back to her.
“It’s not ice,” I say, offering the cloth with a small, hopeful smile, “but it’s something.” I hover for a moment, watching her press it gently to her eye, then exhale and sink down onto a bench nearby with a groan.
“Of course this happens,” I mutter, not looking at her at first. “First time we hang out and I punch you in the face.”
A pause. I twist the end of my dark hair.
“I, uh… I didn’t really grow up around a lot of people. Mostly just my parents. I’m still figuring out how not to be… like this.” I glance at her, then back at the floor. “Apparently I need to figure out how not to accidentally concuss people too. I swear I’m not usually this rusty.”
“Halfway across the gym?” I try to tease back, but it comes out sheepish. “Generous of you to spare me the full distance.”
While she talks and moves with me, I move toward a nearby shelf stacked with old linens and training gear. Beneath it, half-tucked in the shadows, is a squat keg with a tap and a bucket beneath it—probably meant for filling canteens. I turn the spigot, and sure enough, cold water rushes out.
“Ah—perfect.” I grab one of the rags—clean enough, by the looks of it—dunk it fully into the water, wring it out just enough to keep it from dripping, and carry it back to her.
“It’s not ice,” I say, offering the cloth with a small, hopeful smile, “but it’s something.” I hover for a moment, watching her press it gently to her eye, then exhale and sink down onto a bench nearby with a groan.
“Of course this happens,” I mutter, not looking at her at first. “First time we hang out and I punch you in the face.”
A pause. I twist the end of my dark hair.
“I, uh… I didn’t really grow up around a lot of people. Mostly just my parents. I’m still figuring out how not to be… like this.” I glance at her, then back at the floor. “Apparently I need to figure out how not to accidentally concuss people too. I swear I’m not usually this rusty.”
let go of your fears, and jump into the river
as the starlight bleeds out, let it be your new route
as the starlight bleeds out, let it be your new route
