“So what’s he like?” Gray asked as he squeezed her against his hip.
“Who, my brother?”
Gray laughed. “Who else would I be asking about, Aoife? God?”
She smiled wryly and shrugged. “There are other possibilities.” She went quiet for a few long moments, gathering her thoughts as she stared down the pathway ahead of them. “Phelan…Phelan is an experience.”
Her arched a brow, peering at her. “Really? Is that all I’m going to get?”
Chuckling, she shook her head. “No, of course not.” She exhaled a sigh and shoved her hands into her pockets. “He’s a few years older than me—not much in the grand scheme of things, but older. He’s younger than Seamus, of an age with Teague. Neve and I are the youngest. I’ve told you a little bit about the five of us—about me and my brother and our cousins. We were almost inseparable back then, back before…before.”
“Are you all right?” Gray asked softly, apparently taking note of the sudden distance in her eyes and the wistfulness of her tone.
“Yeah,” she said softly. “I just miss the old days sometimes.” Before Seamus stopped being the Taliesin and my brother took on that burden. Before Seamus left us and Teague retreated to bitter anger at his father. Before the worst of the wars.
Before we fled the world that was our home for another because one king’s fear became our collective fear.
She leaned into him and Gray held her close for a long moment. “We were always together, even when we were apart,” she said softly. “Now it’s different. Now we’re all too distant, too far. I can’t feel them the way I used to feel them. That gets hard.”
“That’s why we’re walking,” Gray murmured.
“Yeah,” she whispered. “Yeah, it is.” She refused to regret the choice. She needed to see her brother—needed to touch him, to assure herself that he really was going to be okay. She didn’t think he was yet, but in time he would be.
Somehow, he always was, always came out of things okay, but it felt different this time.
Maybe it’s because we’re vulnerable somehow. Maybe it’s because of everything that’s been happening. It just feels different. Nothing’s the same anymore. Nothing.
“Aoife?”
“Yeah?”
Gray kissed her temple. “I love you.”
A blush crept up, leaving her cheeks hot. She smiled and nodded, throat tightening so much she couldn’t speak. Gray smiled.
“I know,” he said, and that was all.
I hope she finds what she wants to find. I don’t think Phelan is the same as he was though.
Thanks for the new chapter. The flu has left me. whew… nasty.