Page 21
Story: Shadowfox
Curiosity got the better of me.
“So what’s going on with you and Egret?”
She blinked, turning her head. “What?”
“You heard me.” I grinned. “Last time we saw you two, you were getting close—reallyclose. Now it’s . . . I don’t know. It feels different. What did he do? Did he screw it up?”
She sighed, rubbing her temple. “God, Will. You ask questions like some preteen in the lunchroom.”
“I just want to know if my favorite tragic character inspiration finally got his act together.”
“Your favorite tragic character inspiration? Planning on becoming a novelist after . . . whatever this life is?”
“You’re avoiding the question.”
She made a frustrated noise, but the corner of her mouth twitched, betraying her amusement.
I had her now.
I patted the seat next to me. “Come on, let’s get comfortable. I need details.”
She rolled her eyes but relented, shifting so that she slid down into her seat, curling up like a child ready for whispered secrets. I did the same, sinking into the space beside her, pressing our shoulders together. Thankfully, we each resisted the urge to giggle.
“You’re impossible,” she muttered.
“And yet, here we are.” I nudged her with my shoulder again. “Now, out with it. I want all the details. Make me jealous of . . . something.”
She gave me a look, then let out a slow breath. Her eyes drifted to the window, where I doubted she saw much of the passing countryside. Her eyes were glazed, lost in memory.
“It tookforever. . .” she admitted, her voice distant and dreamlike. “For us to give in to whatever this was. I mean, you know how he is: always deflecting, always turning everything into a joke. I wasn’t going to waste my time with someone who couldn’t be honest about what he wanted—or, at least, be serious when needed. He can be such a child.”
“And yet,” I teased, smirking.
“And yet,” she repeated with a soft laugh, turning back toward me. Her fingers traced a loose thread on her sleeve. “After our last mission, we ended up back in the States together. I wasn’t supposed to stay. I was only passing through before heading to another posting, but Egret—” She hesitated, a small smile flickering across her lips. “He convinced me to wait. To see where things might lead.”
I grinned, nudging her. “So he made a move.”
“You make it sound so dramatic.”
“Itisdramatic!” I hissed, excitement thrumming in my chest. “Do you know how much money I would have lost if we’d been placing bets on how long it would take for you two to just give in to each other?”
She laughed, dropping her head against my shoulder. For the briefest moment, we were just two friends chatting and laughing and supporting each other. In a world so often at war with itself, that was a moment of perfect peace. I took a mental snapshot and hoped it would last forever.
“I moved to Washington for him,” she admitted, voice quieter now. “He was stationed there between missions. The agency wanted him close.”
That surprised me. “Youmovedfor him?”
“I know,” she muttered, rubbing her forehead. “Who am I?”
“Someone who fell for a pain in the ass.” I chuckled, then added, “I get it.”
She snorted, glancing at my sleeping Thomas. “Yeah, you would.”
The train rattled on, and for a moment, neither of us spoke. Then she sighed. “I love him, Will. I really do, but he’s . . . complicated . . . and that’s probably too kind a word for it.”
“How so?”
She thought a moment, then met my gaze for the first time since I’d asked about Egret. “He bottles things up so much, lets them out only when he absolutely has to. It’s impossible to crack his shell, for him to let someone inside. I’ve come close a few times, and, Will, he’s beautiful when he lets me see him—reallysee him. But . . . I don’t know . . . Far too often, he hides behind this stupid mask of humor that isn’t even funny half the time.”
“So what’s going on with you and Egret?”
She blinked, turning her head. “What?”
“You heard me.” I grinned. “Last time we saw you two, you were getting close—reallyclose. Now it’s . . . I don’t know. It feels different. What did he do? Did he screw it up?”
She sighed, rubbing her temple. “God, Will. You ask questions like some preteen in the lunchroom.”
“I just want to know if my favorite tragic character inspiration finally got his act together.”
“Your favorite tragic character inspiration? Planning on becoming a novelist after . . . whatever this life is?”
“You’re avoiding the question.”
She made a frustrated noise, but the corner of her mouth twitched, betraying her amusement.
I had her now.
I patted the seat next to me. “Come on, let’s get comfortable. I need details.”
She rolled her eyes but relented, shifting so that she slid down into her seat, curling up like a child ready for whispered secrets. I did the same, sinking into the space beside her, pressing our shoulders together. Thankfully, we each resisted the urge to giggle.
“You’re impossible,” she muttered.
“And yet, here we are.” I nudged her with my shoulder again. “Now, out with it. I want all the details. Make me jealous of . . . something.”
She gave me a look, then let out a slow breath. Her eyes drifted to the window, where I doubted she saw much of the passing countryside. Her eyes were glazed, lost in memory.
“It tookforever. . .” she admitted, her voice distant and dreamlike. “For us to give in to whatever this was. I mean, you know how he is: always deflecting, always turning everything into a joke. I wasn’t going to waste my time with someone who couldn’t be honest about what he wanted—or, at least, be serious when needed. He can be such a child.”
“And yet,” I teased, smirking.
“And yet,” she repeated with a soft laugh, turning back toward me. Her fingers traced a loose thread on her sleeve. “After our last mission, we ended up back in the States together. I wasn’t supposed to stay. I was only passing through before heading to another posting, but Egret—” She hesitated, a small smile flickering across her lips. “He convinced me to wait. To see where things might lead.”
I grinned, nudging her. “So he made a move.”
“You make it sound so dramatic.”
“Itisdramatic!” I hissed, excitement thrumming in my chest. “Do you know how much money I would have lost if we’d been placing bets on how long it would take for you two to just give in to each other?”
She laughed, dropping her head against my shoulder. For the briefest moment, we were just two friends chatting and laughing and supporting each other. In a world so often at war with itself, that was a moment of perfect peace. I took a mental snapshot and hoped it would last forever.
“I moved to Washington for him,” she admitted, voice quieter now. “He was stationed there between missions. The agency wanted him close.”
That surprised me. “Youmovedfor him?”
“I know,” she muttered, rubbing her forehead. “Who am I?”
“Someone who fell for a pain in the ass.” I chuckled, then added, “I get it.”
She snorted, glancing at my sleeping Thomas. “Yeah, you would.”
The train rattled on, and for a moment, neither of us spoke. Then she sighed. “I love him, Will. I really do, but he’s . . . complicated . . . and that’s probably too kind a word for it.”
“How so?”
She thought a moment, then met my gaze for the first time since I’d asked about Egret. “He bottles things up so much, lets them out only when he absolutely has to. It’s impossible to crack his shell, for him to let someone inside. I’ve come close a few times, and, Will, he’s beautiful when he lets me see him—reallysee him. But . . . I don’t know . . . Far too often, he hides behind this stupid mask of humor that isn’t even funny half the time.”
Table of Contents
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