Miles
I stumble back, dizzy and confused. My brain just went into lockdown. Alert! Emotional overload! Wren is still there, looking like he doesn't know what to do, his eyes as wide as mine. Well. This is awkward. I tell my mouth to open, to talk without thinking as I usually do. Some choked sound escapes me. I can't begin to untangle the complicated emotions inside of me. Some part of me actually enjoyed it.
Wren opens his mouth and I immediately know I'm going to hate whatever he says next. Will it be something like "Marry me?" or "I don't care about my brother as long as I have you?" I shudder, not being able to decide which would be worse. He opens his mouth and says something completely unexpected. "Do you love me?" he asks with the right amount of sadness to make me feel guilty.
Shock falls over me in waves. That's the million-dollar question, isn't it Wren? But do I really love him? Time seems to slow as I think of everything we went through, of how happy I am to hear his voice, how much I worry and thinking about him, and finally what it felt like to kiss him. I freeze, the words stuck in my throat.
I test my reactions to see if I'm really paralyzed. My hands can move, but my brain is on overload, my heart squeezing so hard I can't breathe. I close my mouth that suddenly ran dry. I look deep into those gray eyes, searching for answers. Seeing it's taking me so long to answer, he turns slightly, as if to leave. This is the moment. Take it or leave it. I force my mouth to speak. "Of course I love you," I say, and as soon as it's out I know it's the truth.
The fear of almost losing Wren forever combined with the relief of someone actually feeling love for me sends me crashing into Wren's arms. He holds me for a while then tilts my chin upward, as if to kiss me again. "Calm down," I say, pulling away, glad my voice is finally deciding to cooperate.
He should know one thing by now: I'm not that easy. "Let's go home," he says. I nod. Right now, that feels like the best idea in the world. I put an arm over his shoulder like we did in the arena when I was limping from my leg wound and we begin the slow ascent together. I don't even think about what he means by "home". We don't both have one home, and we won't anytime soon. I need my space. Maybe he just means Bailey's house. Because from now on, I'll never be contented with just being alone.
