Wednesday December 3rd 2014
Washing Anastasia with her loofah, he kept his voice casual. “How do you feel about what the doctor said?”
Anastasia kept her hands on the side of the bathtub. Just yesterday they’d lessened the wraps, still bulky, they were much slimmer than the mitts she was used to. She still didn’t have any kind of dexterity, but it was progress. It was the other two pieces of news that the doctor had given that sent her almost bouncing with joy.
“Scared,” Anastasia confessed. “I know it’s stupid, but I’m scared it won’t happen. I just want it so bad I’m scared to hope.”
He washed the creamy skin of her shoulders. Slowly, his fingers worked at the knots he always found there. “It’s going to happen. He says your eyes are growing back.” They’d put a blindfold on her eyes to keep the light from damaging the fledgling nerves. “Robert said in a week you might be able to see a little if we keep the lights down.”
“And what happens when I get my sight back?” Anastasia’s face turned toward him, black silk hiding hollow sockets. “What happens to this? When I get my sight back, are you going to ask one of the nurses to help me?”
“Why would I do that?” Cesare asked.
“It’s one thing to help a girl when she can’t see the disgust in your eyes. But what happens when I can see you? I don’t care if you flinch when you touch me. I just … I just need you here,” Anastasia whispered.
He laid a gentle kiss on her head. “I’m not going anywhere. I don’t get sick when I touch you, it only makes me want to touch you more. You’re still the same girl I saw that first time you came into class. Skin fades, it ages and grows old. Some people are worth less than the skin they wear. But you, princess, you 're something special and no one can take that.”
She moved her head up, presenting the same spot for another kiss. He laughed softly as he kissed her again. He wanted her to know that she was still the same girl he’d met those months ago—savaged by life and missing a few parts, but the same where it counted.
She was under siege by life, every day a gauntlet of torture with failure on every side, more than once he’d wondered when she’d break. She trained her ass off, pushing through the new exercises with bloody minded determination, throwing herself into every meditation. Even blind, she kept up with her classes. That would have depressed the hell out of him if he wasn’t happy for her. She’d lost her electives until she was fit to come back to class on her own, but she had pushed the problem aside for another day. Shading it all was the schools’ rejection of her, no one talked to her, no one came to see how she was doing. She was as alone as Cesare had always been.
Pushing her to breakfast, Cesare knew she was doing better than anyone had any reason to hope for. She’d taken the worst the school could throw at her. Bleeding and savaged, she’d refused to be broken by them.
Anastasia took the mouthful of eggs with relish. They weren’t that great, but she’d just been cleared for solid food last night. Cesare was still helping her eat. Even with slimmer bandages, her fingers and hands just didn’t have the dexterity necessary. Her lips were only melted ruins, the muscles behind them slowly recovering. There was a lot of damage and food slipped out, despite her best efforts. That’s why Cesare was still feeding her before the other students came into the cafeteria.
Anastasia pulled her head away, letting him know she was done. As he gently dabbed her face with a napkin, Alexandra sat down at the table with an envelope. “It’s from my father.” Even as the vampire spoke, Cesare’s arm settled around the akatharton’s shoulder, pulling her against his body. She snaked her arm around his waist, her other hand resting high on his thigh.
Alexandra glared at the letter. Virgin white and hand pressed, the paper showed the exacting mastery that had gone into its birth. Alexandra laid the paper down, exposing the swooping arches and graceful curves of her name, each letter marked by the precise cuts of a quill.
“Good news?” Cesare asked. The paper alone cost enough to feed him on the streets for a week.
Alexandra shrugged without taking her eyes off the letter. “I don’t know. It’s … he hasn’t written me since I’ve been here. So, I don’t know. We … don’t talk after what happened.”
His arm settled around Alexandra’s shoulder. He didn’t do it often, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t. They touched all the time in training. This was just one more kind of support. She leaned into him, welcoming the intimacy. She was dense muscle and coiled power, a living weapon of murderous instincts. “What does it say?” He pushed away the thought that the two women were eerily mirroring each other.
“I wrote to him after the altar incident. If anything was going to get him to write me, it would be that. The altar is as old as the Order. Your saving it from defilement was something I knew he’d want to hear about. I was sure he’d reward you, but I didn’t hear anything from him.”
“I don’t need a reward.”
“No, but you deserve one.” She shook her head. “Lady Kali told him about my helping in the attack on Anastasia. He says he’s proud of me and that he’d like to meet you. That your service to the Order of the Dragon deserves note. He also says that your influence on me has been seen and for me to honor the friendship we have.”
“That doesn’t sound bad.” Cesare was trying to figure out why she was glaring bloody death at the letter.
“It’s because he never responded to me, never wrote to see how I was doing or even to say anything about you when I told him what you’d done. No, he waits until he hears it from someone else, only then am I worth writing to,” Alexandra flared.
She went still and quiet, looking down on the beautifully written letter. “I’m not sure what to do. I don’t know … I don’t know if I want him in my life.” She looked at Cesare, eyes shining with unshed tears that couldn’t mask the towering rage behind them. “Commander?”
“I don’t have a family, killer. For me, there are only two kinds of people, those I’m willing to bleed for and everyone else. If you can cut them from your life, then they were never worth bleeding for. The ones that burrow into bone, those few whose hooks have dived too deep to pull out without taking your soul with it, are the only ones worth your time. You can push them back, but you can’t let them go.”
“He’s my father.” It was weighed with the guilt burned into every child.
Cesare shrugged. “He’s a sperm donor, that’s it. It doesn’t mean he was there when you cried at night. When the world pulled their knives, did he fight for you? Did he love you when everyone turned their back?” Cesare already knew the answer.
“You think … I shouldn’t have him as part of my life?” Alexandra asked.
“I think you should be yourself and stop trying to be someone else.” The words struck deep into the vampire.
“Only one person has ever wanted me to be myself. Only one person has ever loved that version of me. Everyone else wants me to be something different,” the vampire said quietly.
“Make that two. You don’t love him. You don’t even like him,” Cesare said just as quietly.
“I should. He’s my father, I’m supposed to love him.” It was the grasping for the normal in a sea of brutality.
“When are you going to let go of what you’re supposed to be and accept who you are?”
She slid closer until she was flush against him. “I don’t feel anything for him, Cesare.” Her words were barely a whisper. Pausing, she forced her words out through a lifetime of hiding. “I’m dead inside, Cesare. I don’t feel anything for anyone. That’s why I have to pretend.”
“Did you love your sister?” Cesare asked, his breath stirring her hair.
“Yes, but she’s the only one. I should love others, Cesare. I know I should. Everyone says so. All the girls say how much they care about their mothers and fathers. They spend their time with friends and boyfriends. They care, I just … don’t. I was born wrong.” Cesare couldn’t help laying a brief kiss on the top of her head.
“There’s nothing wrong with you. You’re perfect the way you are. So, you don’t like people? Well, neither do I. So, you don’t care if you hurt others? That’s not strange, it just means you’re more discriminating than most.” Cesare held the cold vampire tightly.
“You know it’s not that simple,” Alexandra said sadly into his jacket.
“Let me tell you what I know. I know you’re the person who stood by me to save my friend’s life. I know you killed for me when I needed you to. I know that if I stood up and wanted to go kill Abraxas, you’d be beside me past blood hitting walls and screams rending air. You be who you are, because that’s the person I want in my life. That’s the person I’d bleed for.” Cesare’s words were low, compressed into an intense whisper that cut through the air.
Cesare felt the pain and tension leave her body as the killer nuzzled into his jacket, taking his scent down to her soul. “Tell me what to do?”
And that was the crux of the issue. She wanted him to decide for her. She couldn’t, or just plain didn’t want to, make that choice herself. Cesare wrestled with whether to decide for her or force her to do it on her own.
If he forced her to do it on her own, she’d take it for the rejection it would be. She wouldn’t care why he’d refused to help her, only that he hadn’t been there.
This was her choice, and it was something she should do herself. There were good reasons to back out of this with a simple statement that he would support her no matter what. It would be the cowards’ way. No matter how wise it was, she’d only leave feeling more alone than she did right now. She was asking for his help. Right or wrong, she wanted him to take care of this.
“Let me see it,” Cesare said. Gratefully, Alexandra handed it over. Cesare folded it back up and handed it back to her. “Write him a thank you, but don’t initiate contact unless he does. We’ll decide on what happens if this turns into more.”
The relief on her face made him think he might have made the right choice. But then, this could go so wrong. It was such a slippery slope, but she asked, and he wouldn’t leave her out there in the cold. He wanted her to live her truth, even if that truth was a thing of cruelty and carnage.
Seeing the lost look still in her eyes, he reached for anything that would change it. “What are the strengths of a special forces squad?”
Alexandra stared at him, making no move to come out from under his arm, she turned her face back into his shoulder. Her words were muffled by his jacket. “You have a mobile force that can accomplish things an army can’t.”
“For example?” Cesare pressed. Alexandra relaxed at the change in conversation. Cesare knew the topic was hard for her. She had the training, but it was all theory. A creature with her power and potential would need to know how to be a leader or she’d end up being led. She’d need to have her own power, or she’d be thrown away in someone else’s war.
“Infiltration and assassination. In World War II, they were used to destroy railroad tracks. You can make a big difference with a small team.” Alexandra moved slightly, seeking more contact.
“Good. Now the advantages of having an army in a city?” Cesare asked.
“You have control of the city from the ground up,” Alexandra said.
“Let’s say you go into a city with a special forces squad, and you accomplish your mission. What’s the next goal?” Cesare asked.
“Get out.”
“That’s right. Knowing the weakness of others is the surest way to embody strength. The power of an army is it can be everywhere. The weakness is that they're clumsy and can’t act quickly. Sun Tzu says to never attack weakness, only attack strength. How do you reconcile these two things in your bid to get out of the city?” Cesare asked.
“I only attack strength because strength has no deception to it. Unlike weakness, which may be a trap, strength is always strength. The power of the army is to have people everywhere; all I need is to become part of the system to get out. Its weakness is that it can’t be strong everywhere. I could plan to hit them where they are weak, but it may be a trap.”
“And if you’re the army?” Cesare asked.
“The power of a small team is mobility. Look to where your army isn’t and set up new checks at the established check points,” Alexandra responded.
“Good job.”
It was just the bare principles, but you crawl before you walk. You walk before you run. He had to build up the way she thought, piece by piece, the same way you learn anything. Starting with first principles was the only way to break into the more complex thought behind them, but the real point of all this was to get her to think. A soldier didn't need to think, he killed on command. Murder is easy, planning is where chumps are cut from killers.
That was the goal. She knew what she should do but was so used to having every advantage she didn’t see the need to plan. They looked at her as a mad dog, a cur beaten and humiliated into obeying. But with the right training, she could be the person others whispered about, an abomination that scared the horrors who hunted the shadows.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
Elizabeth watched them in eerie silence as they entered the classroom. While they laid their books out, she walked around to the front of her desk and leaned back casually, hands gripping the table with enough pressure to bleed them of color.
“Elizabeth?” Cesare questioned.
“What plans do you have for Winter Solstice?” Elizabeth asked.
Cesare smiled. “I know the school has a Yule Ball on the 20th but I’m not going to a party no one wants me at.” Alexandra looked down, the thump of her book hitting the desk loudly. Anastasia turned her blind face away from him.
“Yes, there’s a Yule Ball, but Winter Solstice is actually on the 21st. It’s that night I was wondering about,” Elizabeth said.
“Nothing, I guess,” Cesare said. “You have something you want to do?”
Elizabeth steeled herself with a deep breath. “My people honor the Solstice and Equinoxes; on those days, we have the ability to grant blessings. I would like you to join me so that I can give you that blessing.” The words rushed forward, tripping over each other. “I understand if you don’t want to do it. I know religion isn’t your thing, and this is a ritual where the old gods are called. If you want me to forget it …” She was already turning away.
“Elizabeth.” The sound of her name stopped her retreat, forcing her to turn around and look at him. It wasn’t that she was expecting rejection, no, she was as sure as the sky was blue that he’d reject her.
He took her hands in his, her fingers cold from blood loss. “I’d be honored to join you. Do I bring anything?”
She brutally suppressed her tears, desperate to hold on to some semblance of dignity. Swallowing several times, her voice was husky with raw emotion. “Bread for Cakes and Ale, if you can. If not, just let me know.” Parting reluctantly, Elizabeth walked back to her desk with a light step and a dazed expression.
Alexandra glared at him as he sat down. Anastasia kept her distance, only a light hand on his thigh instead of the full-court press of having her pushed up against him. He’d fucked something up somewhere along the way, but for the life of him he couldn’t trace it down.
Shoving books into her bag at the end of class, Alexandra refused to look at him. Instead of fighting with her in front of the class, he helped a subdued Anastasia into her wheelchair. He packed up his own bag, and they walked out together.
“So, you want to talk about it, or am I supposed to guess?” Cesare asked.
“It’s nothing,” Alexandra snapped.
“Sure, right. It’s nothing. You’ve been snapping at me since I talked to Elizabeth, but it’s nothing.” He stopped to face the fury of the vampire. “I’m not playing this game, Alexandra. I’m not going to sit and wonder why you’re mad. Have the fucking guts to at least tell me why.”
Anger lit her eyes from within, fangs growing enough to push out from her gums. “Why didn’t you ask me to go to the Yule Ball? I thought … well, I thought we could go together and have fun. I don’t care if the others don’t want you there. I want you there.”
Now he got it. Alexandra didn’t have anyone. She could pick up some guy to go with her, he didn’t know any guy who would dare refuse, but she wasn’t that type. She wouldn’t use someone just to go to the ball. So, it was him or nothing.
“I don’t have anything fancy to wear, so I’ll have to be in the school uniform.”
“I don’t care,” Alexandra rebuked him.
Anastasia had frozen in her chair, blankly staring forward, arms stiff and unmoving along the armrests. He’d seen it before, had done it more times than he wanted to think of. When you don’t have an escape from the pain, when the only escape is to dive into yourself and hope you never come out.
“If we go, I’ll want to dance with Elizabeth as well as you.” Alexandra nodded in agreement before it was even out. “And I’ll be taking Anastasia too, if she’s willing to do me the honor of accompanying me.”
Anastasia shattered, a single broken sob ripping from her throat before she gained control of herself. His hand settled gently on her shoulder. Alexandra gave a slow nod. “Okay, but you only dance with us three. If I’m sharing, it won't be with the whole school.”
“Alexandra, no one beside you three will even let me touch them. None of them are going to want to dance with me,” Cesare said, pushing the wheelchair down the hallway.
Almost skipping next to him, the vampire's smile surprised a third year who gave her an uncertain smile in return. “Don’t care, just remember who you came with.”
“Yeah,” Anastasia added. He got the feeling they were editing the conversation so that the other girl wasn’t part of it. In their minds, he was taking only one of them to the Yule Ball. The other wasn’t even there.
Standing still and silent on the mat, Tamlin welcomed him with a nod. Cesare laid a soft kiss on Anastasia’s torn lips as he got her settled in the sunlight. The training still focused mainly on holds; they were low impact enough to prevent ripping his stitches. As Cesare healed, Tamlin moved more and more toward sparring.
“You’re getting better.” Cesare heard the comment from behind him as he spit blood onto the mat.
“Yeah.” Sarcasm was lost on Tamlin. He was, in fact, getting better. The blood blooms had taken a whole thirty minutes before showing on his shirt. That was real progress.
“You’re still only a crippled shadow of what you were, but we can start training you back into fighting shape.” There was a trace of satisfaction in Tamlin’s voice. “How goes the other projects?”
“Slow,” Cesare replied flatly, legs shaky as he pushed himself up. “I feel my Kundalini, but all it does is sit there. I don’t know how to get it to do anything, let alone rise along my spine.” Strength trickled into his muscles, firming up his stance. “I think I’m getting some insight into Aleph, but I don’t know if any of its true.”
“Does it matter?” Tamlin eyed his stance, tapping him here and there, correcting his legs and arms. “You’re trying to get in touch with something that is beyond knowing. The best way is to think of trying to describe a friend: good, bad, smart, stupid. People are all kinds of things, never the exact thing twice. Anything you come up with will never be the truth.”
That gave him enough to think on for the rest of class. He left the room just as Alexandra bounded up the stairs, the other students jumping back to let her through. The boys stared after her, caught in her display of otherworldly grace.
“Cesare?” Anastasia asked as Alexandra reached them.
“Yeah.” Cesare was already giving the handles to Alexandra so she could pick up the chair.
“I need to go to the library.” Her words came out in a rush. “I need to tell my mom that I’m going to the Yule Ball and talk to her about a dress.” There was a giddy excitement in her voice. She’d wanted to go to the Yule Ball with Cesare but had known there was no way he would go with something like her. Content with what she had, she’d given up on the Yule Ball, but the dream had never died. Now that she was going, she’d do everything she could to make sure she was worth bringing.
Alexandra froze at the words. Her eyes shuttered closed, but not before Cesare caught the flare of pain in them. It wasn’t a mystery to Cesare. Having no one for as long as he could remember, he knew the pain of loneliness.
“Sure,” Cesare said. Alexandra turned to slink away. “Where you going, killer?”
“You don’t need me there to make a call. I have things I’d like to do.”
“I need you there, killer,” Cesare said, facing the hurt look on Alexandra’s face. Forcing the pain down, she gave him a single, sharp nod. She wanted to go and nurse her pain, to try to find that blazing happiness she’d held for only a few hours.
The library had been a sanctuary in a school of maiming, it had been the only place he had outside of class where he wasn’t bled. The scent of old books washed over him as he took a deep breath just inside the door. The silence whispered safety to small rabbits like him, no hawks to swoop down and rip him to shreds. It was a place outside the killing fields of stone and field.
All eyes turned to the trio when they walked in, even the whispers dying under the gossip that swirled around the pariahs of the school. The student body was caught, mesmerized by their fear and thrilled by terror of them. Lies were given as facts, birthing malformed things that masqueraded as truth. Sex slaves, food, conspiracy, or cover for a lesbian love affair, it didn’t matter what they believed. No one wanted any part of the trouble that clung to the three.
The computers always went fast. Everyone had papers to do and while you could submit them handwritten, it wasn’t encouraged. As soon as class ended, there was a mad rush for the computers. Once claimed, they were turned into fortresses of mounded books, each a bulwark against the sea of heathens looking to steal one.
Alexandra took in the various forts with a narrow-eyed glare, singling out a trim third year. As the room watched, she walked up behind him.
“You’re done.”
Staring at his screen as he frantically tapped the keys, he didn’t even turn to look at her. “First come, first serve. Bug off bitch.”
Alexandra’s lips stretched into something coldly happy. “Oh, please say that again.”
The boy twirled around in his chair. “Listen, bitch ...” The words died in his mouth, strangled still born on facing the vampire’s eager eyes. Sallow-faced and trembling, he grabbed blindly for his books. “I’m done. Have a good day. Please don’t kill me.” Snatching his things, he quickly scurried off. Not one laugh broke out in the room as Alexandra looked around. Anyone who had an issue with her taking what she wanted kept it to themselves.
Cesare locked the wheelchair and helped Anastasia into the computer chair. Following her instructions, he logged onto her video calling account. She had a massive list of contacts. Scrolling through them, he couldn’t help wondering who the male names belonged to. Toward the end, he found the one labelled mom.
Lady Kali picked up on the first ring, coming through clear from the other end but without video. “Hey sweets, Cesare helping you call your old mom?”
“Yes. I have some news.” Anastasia’s lips twitched into a mangled smile. “Cesare asked me to the Yule Ball!”
Lady Kali squealed with her daughter. Smiling, Cesare backed out of the conversation with a quiet whisper. “I’ll be right behind you, sitting at a table. I won’t take my eyes off you.”
Nodding her understanding, Anastasia was lost in talking with her mom. It was easily the happiest he’d seen her in a long time. For that alone, it was worth the trouble that the Yule Ball would be, because he knew there was no way this would be a smooth affair—not with three women, all of whom seemed to bear a grudge against the others.
Cesare sat down with Alexandra. The vampire was already pulling out books and setting them on the table with the precision that only the heart sore have, the single-mindedness of those who want to focus on anything but their pain.
“You want to talk about it?” Cesare laid his hand softly on hers.
“Would it matter?” Alexandra asked, pitching her voice low.
“Don’t know, sometimes it does. I’m willing to listen.”
Her eyes stayed on his hand as it covered hers, unwilling or unable to meet his eyes. “I’ve spent my life learning to kill, Cesare. I know how to act at balls, but I’m more the military type. I know this means a lot to her but … I was hoping to impress you,” Alexandra said softly.
He knew the Yule Ball would be a pain in the ass. “You always impress me. And I don’t mean just because you can kill me with a hangnail. You’re just as beautiful as Anastasia, and I’m sure you’ll be just as breathtaking.”
Alexandra laughed quietly. “She knows what she’s doing and I’m sure her mother will get her the best dress she can find. At this late date … you’ll only have eyes for her, Cesare.”
Nothing he said would make this right, you can’t fight feelings. She’d convinced herself that Anastasia would have every advantage, and in a lot of ways, she would. While Alexandra was learning to kill with a spoon, Anastasia was learning the fine art of cosmetics. Anastasia had always had access to the latest fashions and was blessed with a body men drooled over.
He and Alexandra worked on their homework as the two akatharton talked. Colors and cuts were discussed and thrown out as the two went back and forth. Then it was fabrics he didn’t recognize, although none of them sounded cheap. Just listening to them, Cesare had the feeling he would be appalled at the cost of this dress, and with every word, Alexandra got quieter.
Hours later, Anastasia wound down her conversation. Cesare walked up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. “Kali, I need a favor.”
Instantly, Kali’s carefree face disappeared, revealing a predator who'd hunted since time was young. “Anything.”
A lump filled his throat at her easy acceptance. She didn’t care what it was, only that he needed it. They’d only exchanged a few letters, he just didn’t have the time to write, but whenever he’d sent one a response arrived a few days later. He should have made more time for it, should have made more time for her.
Cesare shook the thought away. “Alexandra needs a dress, and I don’t have any way to do … this …” His gesture encompassed Anastasia and Kali. The vampire needed more than just the dress. Alexandra wanted a woman to talk to, someone who was happy for her. She needed someone to act like a mother, even if they weren’t her mother. “Would you help her?”
“Of course.” Choosing her words carefully, Kali continued, “I could get you a suit if you want, Cesare.”
“No.” The one word was enough. He knew she’d offer, and she was smart enough to know what his answer would be.
“Okay, Romeo. Get the vampire,” Lady Kali said.
Cesare moved Anastasia back to the table so Alexandra could have the computer seat. There was just no way she would talk about dresses with Anastasia right next to her. He stood behind the vampire, setting his hands on the back of her shoulders in silent support. He knew how hard it was to accept help, especially when you needed it.
Lady Kali got right to the point. “Alexandra, we’re going to get you a dress at least as beautiful as the one I’m getting Anastasia.”
“Thank you, Lady Kali, but I have my own money. I’m sure I can figure it out myself,” Alexandra said stiffly, muscles tense and corded under his hands. He knew what she was doing. It hurts to need help, but what’s worse is the shame when others find out you need help. Shame’s hard to fight, insidious and poisonous. You can kill it, but any victory ends up costing you more than it’s worth.
“No doubt you could, but you don’t seem to understand. I like you, even owe you for what you did for my daughter, but I love Cesare. Now do we understand each other, Alexandra?”
There are some battles you can’t win, and this was one of them, which was why he hadn’t talked to her before asking Lady Kali. Alexandra would have shot him down, turned the words around, or used any tactic to make him give up. But facing Lady Kali, Alexandra caved gracefully. Cesare felt her shoulders relax as the tension drained out of her.
“I’m ... grateful. Thank you, Lady Kali,” Alexandra said simply.
“No thanks necessary. Now ...” Cesare was already walking back to the table as the two began their marathon of fashion.
He let his fingers run along Anastasia’s shoulder as he sat down, just to let her know he was back. Picking up his science book, he flipped through the pages. “You want to work on the assignment?”
Anastasia was quiet for so long he wondered if she hadn’t heard him. “Why? You don’t call in favors, so why now?” She asked, turning her veiled eyes on him.
He wouldn’t give up Alexandra’s secrets, but he could tell Anastasia enough to be truthful without betraying her. “She just wants to look her best, and I don’t have a problem calling in favors for my friends.”
Anastasia paused. “She was worried I’d look better than her.” The flat words punched through him. Every now and then, he forgot how incandescently brilliant she was, top of her class and staying there despite being blind. She didn’t display it much, preferring to keep her insights to herself.
At his silence, her lips twitched. “She’s worried I'll look better than her? Has she seen me? If I turned a corner and came face to face with Pinhead, he’d shit himself. Leatherface might fuck me, but no one will think I’m worth taking to the Yule Ball. I’m a pity date and I know it but … I still want to go with you.”
Cesare put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer. “You’re not a pity date. I want to go with you, just as much as I want to go with Alexandra. You think I’d agree to spend time with anyone I didn’t want to?”
“You’d do anything for a friend,” she whispered into his shoulder.
“I would, but I wouldn’t lie to you. I want to go with you. I’m honored to be taking the three prettiest girls to the dance. She was scared you’d outshine her, and you know why?” Cesare laid a kiss on her stubbly head. “Because she knows I think you’re gorgeous and can’t take my eyes off you.”
A chopped, ragged sob racked through her as Cesare held her close. “Every time you say it, I know you mean it. But Cesare, I know how I look. I know what you have to wake up to and … I can’t believe you find that beautiful. I wouldn’t, couldn’t, kiss something like that. Every time I hear it, I try to hold on to this feeling of safety … but it always slips away.”
Kissing her head again, his words were soft and sure. “Then I’ll tell you every day, over and over, until you get it, that I’m here for you and that you’re still as beautiful as ever. I care for you, and no matter what the acid has done to your face, you’re still my dream girl.”
He held her like that for long minutes. If he needed to, he’d stay like that forever. When you’ve been broken, it’s the easiest thing in the world to just let those fragments of your soul drift away, because trying to make them fit only hurts. Sometimes all it takes is for a friend to shelter you with their love, let you rest for a time from the screaming faces in your head. A bare few minute’s rest before taking up the fight again, but those few minutes are the difference between a broken soul and a tempered one.
So he held her until she sighed. “Thank you. I guess we can work on that science assignment.”