Gigi stared at the ceiling in her room. Despite the fatigue that pooled in every crevice of her body, she couldn’t sleep. The hour was a mystery. It was unclear if it was late or early. Only the shadows from the dying light behind the drawn curtains gave any hint of the world outside. The upcoming fight and her new understanding with her mother weighed on her, but they weren’t the reasons she couldn’t sleep. She slapped the covers in frustration and turned on her side. Why couldn’t she stop thinking about him?
Men weren’t a mystery to her, in mind or body. She had enjoyed plenty of flings and shared pillow talk and pet names. Her love affairs had been like fireworks, starting with flame, exploding quickly, and finally dissolving into the night. That had worked for her. No strings meant life was just a little less messy. Someone can’t let you down if they aren’t around to begin with. She wasn’t certain she could even recall her last lover’s name if pressed. Was it Kayden? Or perhaps Samuel? It didn’t matter.
The men she had been with failed to live long in her memory. However, her mind couldn’t let go of the alcohol-soaked visions of the night she saved Drake. Not so much the heroic rescue that was lost to her but the night they had shared. Their bare bodies intertwined. Her face was buried into his tanned, tattooed chest. They were sharing each other's heartbeats and warmth. There was so much more they could share. Sweat began to bead on her forehead as she started to feel warm. She recalled the firmness of his muscles that she had used for pillows. A yearning to feel his body again pushed to the forefront of her mind.
The memory of him on top of her at the docks to the Hollow came to her next. How heavy his breathing had been, his hands next to her shoulders, his heart beating against hers like on the night they met. Her breath began to quicken as she relived the experience. It had felt so right, even in such a sordid place. Finally, the memory she relished most was when she was safe in his arms after her fight. A lifetime wasn’t enough time to spend in those arms. His spicy scent came back to her nose from the past. She imagined him with her now and wished his form was beside her.
A frustrated sigh escaped her lips. Using her elbows to prop herself, she pushed herself up against the headboard. The wood felt cool as she rested there. The morning after they first met, he had asked her if they were married because they had slept in the same bed. She let out a small laugh in the empty room. If only it were so simple, Drake.
“Should have said yes,” she whispered with a small smile. She sunk back to the mattress. Once more, she found herself looking at the white of the ceiling above. A picture was forming in her heart and mind of where Drake could fit into the life she dreamed of. Her life’s ambitions had never required a man, but she was starting to think one might not be so bad to have along for the ride.
What could our life be like together? After all, he was going to be her coach, even if he didn’t truly understand what the position entailed. He would grow into it, she decided. A vision of the pair training together appeared in her mind. She would push her mind and body as far as they would go, fueled by her own determination and his belief in her. When the day was done, they would leave hand in hand. After they returned home, they would wash off the sweat she had worked up, then maybe work up a new one together. It felt like a wonderful dream. She supposed it was just a fantasy, after all.
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Yet there was something about the life she imagined that seemed tantalizingly plausible. They could have their own place. There was finally a tangible thing for which she could save her money. Nowhere lavish, just a small space they could call home. A little yard for Glorp. They could fix up a miniature art studio for Drake. A place where they could be happy. Until she was champion, or at least made an honest living by knocking people out, then they could go anywhere in Quist. They could live on their terms. Then Gigi could start to dream even bigger. There was a whole world out there to see. It could be theirs to explore together.
There was, however, the dragon in the room. Drake was not just some ordinary man. He was a Sword of Paxia, a thing she thought was legend but was becoming her thorny reality. Perhaps it was because she didn’t want it to be the case, that she wanted him all to herself, but the truth was he was someone important. A position like his came tied to duties and responsibilities that couldn’t be shirked. A worry twisted in her stomach, popping her fantasy of their future together. Replaced with a cold and scary thought, she had been pushing back all night. Who is after you? It took little for her to see that Drake was a loose end, likely to some powerful and dangerous people.
When they spoke with the witch, she said something about knights near Poppy. Gigi remembered how Drake had stiffened at their very mention. As his story revealed itself, one fact remained: people were looking for him. She had no idea who, or what their intent was. However, she suspected they aimed to drag Drake back in chains or pieces.
She had seen what he could do firsthand. While she had never seen him in a real fight, Gigi had little trouble picturing what kind of devastation he could inflict. The fact that he seemed so eager to avoid these knights wormed its way into her thoughts. It could have been that he was simply done with bloodshed entirely and was doing them a kindness. However, there was the far more terrifying possibility that he was frightened to face them.
The second possibility clawed at her. She had seen steel pass through his flesh as if it were a shadow. She watched him take the light from the eyes of men. Without a blade, he had cut an arachne’s leg off in the blink of an eye. The idea that there were men he feared felt almost unthinkable.
Gigi shot up in bed. By the Gods fuck this! She flung the comforter off and swung her legs out over the bed. Standing tall, she began to move toward the door. She had important questions that needed answers. If Gigi was going to let Drake any further into her life, she had to have a better idea of what she was dealing with. She would march up to the attic…and do what exactly? Demand that he tell her why he’s scared of the men who imprisoned and tortured him. She stopped.
Her bed creaked as she sat back down. She picked up a pillow and screamed into it. Throwing it to the side, she collapsed backward. Maybe she couldn’t ask him about that yet, but she wasn’t about to lay here pining all night, especially when he was only down the hall and up the stairs. She had to see him.
What if he’s sleeping? The question gave her pause. Gigi supposed she might just have to wake him up…subtly, of course. She got off the bed and strode toward the door. What am I going to say? She settled on a version of the truth that she couldn’t sleep and wanted to see if he was still up…she would keep her questions and how much she missed him to herself for now. She twisted the door handle and slipped into the hall.