It was the first day of spring, the first real day, anyway. The snow has all but vanished, verdant life slowly creeping back into the land around us. My eyes meet his from across the hall. I diverted my gaze, feigning interesting in the artistic mastery of… a blob of color in a painting right past him. Vexx wasn't buying it. His presence still agitated me, but I couldn't pretend I didn't understand his appeal. His facial features are so striking, almost elf-like, set on lightly sun-kissed skin with barely visible freckles sprayed across his prominent cheek bones and nose. Thick brown lashes adorn his fox-like eyes, a deep forest of green beckoning me to explore their secrets. I think my favorite thing about that face is his smile. Boyishly charming and always mischevious, hinting at adventures untold, and possibly a few stolen cookies. Vexx always has this look as though he just did something he shouldn't have, contrasting with an aura of quiet confidence, his powerful shoulders framing a near-perfect body. I would say that it's perfect, but to this day, I haven't exactly conducted an exhaustive inspection, so I just can't be sure. I wonder if we'd look good together. We were a pair of opposites. Deep red hair clashed beautifully with my iridescent black locks, deep-set olive green eyes provided a stunning contrast to his sharp bright emerald ones. I'd never really had a crush before, I don't think, but —
"Do you think that's why you feel so deeply for him?" Ryona interrupts. I've been thinking that myself recently. Was Vexx my first crush? I haven't collected enough puzzle pieces to know for sure. My limited social circle hadn't exactly provided a diverse pool of regulation hotties. The dull, aristocratic boys with their stifling etiquette and the sons of servants — forbidden fruit I dared not to taste. Of those I remember, none of them were even the palest shadow of who Vexx was to me. Vexx was a radiant sun in a land once drenched with darkness, eclipsing the dull, lackluster stars that had populated my world prior.
"Have you ever been in love, Ry?" I ask, not able to make eye contact.
"Mm," she confirms with a nod. The curtness of her hum signals her reluctance to delve deeper. It is my therapy session, after all, not hers.
"How do you know if it's real, if it goes beyond…" I pause, a deep red flush burning in my cheeks before I continue, "if it transcends the physicality, goes deeper than the surface." I was trying to find a delicate way to say that I felt like my former self — who I clearly separate in my mind from who I am becoming — maybe that Raina only liked Vexx for one reason.
Ryona's expression turns introspective. "You just, know," she whispers as she tends to a scrape on my back, her touch soothing. "With Mila, it wasn't instant, it was a love that grew over time, but once it took hold of me, every stray thought I had was of her — laughter, adventures, mundane moments. She was my everything." A melancholic smile flickers on Ryona's lips, but her eyes remain shrouded in sorrow. I wish I hadn't asked at all.
My thoughts swirl around Vexx — the magnetic pull he has on me, that mesmerizing smile and sultry voice weaving an irresistible spell. Past promises saved in memories from days long gone hold me enthralled, a siren's call that pulls me closer no matter how hard I try to fight it. It is difficult to pick through the rubble that his personality has been reduced to, a ravaged landscape of contradictions. There isn't much left there to like, but a moment from our most recent daliance in Cursa sets my heart aflame, a radiant ember that refuses to be extinguished.
Darkness lurks. My nightmares replay the same twisted tale, a crude jumble of everything I know of him now — I pursue him, desperate for answers. I'm met with his venomous words, his anger and disdain slashing at my very soul. He's sick and twisted, but I don't believe it's truly him. He leans in close, his voice softens as he whispers declarations of love in my ear, the antidote to his poison appears.
Hearing Ryona's story is too much for me. I was fooling myself, I don't have what she had. I'm not in love I'm not in love I'm not in love. I am lost, clinging to the shards of my broken past, and my messed up brain had confused it for something it wasn't, and could never be. "I can't love him," my voice breaks as I get up to leave. Fate rubs her hands together and conspires against me as I brush past him in the hallway. I don't know if he heard me, but I think his handler did. Damon's eyes reach mine, two feral slits narrowing into a hostile glare. I can only hope he is so full of himself that he thinks I am talking about him. How is that more preferable? Ugh who I am kidding, it definitely is.