Page 138 of Stardusted

He murmured something back.

She cast one last, loaded glance my way before stepping into the elevator. I stood frozen as she turned. Her eyes held mine until the doors shut.

She left a vacuum in her wake. Lonely and empty. I took a deep breath and held it, throat aching.

More lies. More of a chasm.

More distance forming between me and everything I knew.

Because it was easier, I turned a glower on Sky, gripping my bag’s strap. Frustration heated my chest. “So I can’t see Amelia now?”

The elevator dinged and opened again, spilling out a group of students. They parted around us. I moved closer to Sky, my shoulder brushing his sternum, and his hand hovered at my waist again, stopping just shy of touching me.

When they’d passed, I stepped out of the half-embrace and looked up at him expectantly.

This time when he reached for me, he grasped my wrist, tugging me into the corner, away from the flow of foot traffic. Only a trash can and recycling receptacle could overhear us here.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and this time there was no doubt it was directed at me. He still held my wrist lightly, fingers on my pulse. It reminded me of this morning, and for some reason, I didn’t pull away. “It’s not that I don’t want you to see your friends. I’m not trying to come between you. Trust me. I know how isolating this all is.”

I swallowed, a twinge of empathy rising. I’d wondered about that more than once, how he must feel. I saw the understanding in his dark eyes, too, as they searched mine.

“But youcan’ttell her,” he said, with a hard note that stung.

My shoulders sagged. I knew that. I did. But it still felt like a punch to the gut.

I turned my head and pressed my cheek into my shoulder, unable to look at the quiet regret softening his expression. A couple ambled past holding hands. To them, Sky and I probably looked like that, too. A couple huddled in the corner, whispering.

If only this were a conversation about something as mundane as romantic feelings.

I realized he was still touching me, and I tugged my arm free. Sighing, he pulled off his hat, pushing his hand through his wavy dark hair, leaving it sticking out in tufts before planting the ball cap back in place. Focusing on the common area instead of me, he leaned against the wall and crossed his arms.

He didn’t say anything. Like he was giving me a moment to process. When my traitorous eyes flitted his way again, I found him contemplating me with a faint frown, his mouth pulling in at the corners. There were bruises under his dark eyes, too. He must’ve shaved earlier at his apartment because there wasnothing to obscure the tightness of his jaw. He looked tired. Tired and on edge.

Which checked out. That couch he’d slept onwaspretty shitty.

Not only that, but he had protecting meandthe burden of his mission weighing on him. The stakes of which I probably couldn’t fathom. Not knowing the rest of this story frustrated me, but maybe I had enough on my plate, worrying about my own skin. I probably didn’t need to be worrying about his, too. Silver or otherwise.

Which led me full circle. I hated it, but Sky was right. Even if I didn’t take his Creed into account, I couldn’t bring Amelia into this. I couldn’t risk it.Her.

That didn’t make this any easier.

Another round of elevator riders boarded, and I watched the door slide shut, bitterness coating my tongue. God, why was I even here in the first place? What was I trying to prove by playing at normalcy? Nothing was going to be normal until we could figure this out.

I licked my lips and turned back to Sky. “Maybe I should just skip this midterm?—”

“No,” he said. Firmly enough, I peeked up at him. He shook his head slowly. “No, Raven. We’re already here, and it’s important to you. I know I seem overprotective—and I wish I could tell you why this matters so much. Whyyoumatter so much. But I can’t. I can only say…if the Enil get to you, Rae, it’s not just your life at risk. It’s bigger than you can imagine.”

“So you’ve said.” It came out snappier than I intended. I fisted my marked palm instinctively and tried to lessen the bite. “And I get it. You can’t tell me everything.”

Sky dipped his head in confirmation. “No. But I know it makes it more difficult for you to trust me. I want you to. Trust me.” He hesitated, and when I tried to look away, flushing at thedirect, intent stare he was giving me, he bent until I met his eyes again. “Iwantyou to trust me.”

Something about the way he was looking at me, like I mattered—and not just because I was possibly carrying a Pladian info cache, for once—threatened to make that lump in my throat rise again. It had to be because I was so overwhelmed.

A large group of girls rushed by, talking loudly, their words a jumble. When they passed, I glanced up at the clock on the wall. Five minutes left before my test began.

I did trust Sky. Enough. I mean, I didn’t have many options, but there was something about him. Something easy about his presence, even knowing all I knew. Something dangerously comfortable, too. If I wasn’t careful, it was liable to get me hurt in a way that didn’t involve mech-suit attacks and glowing tablet burns.

Unable to help myself, I slid my attention back to him. We stood close enough now, tucked in the corner, I could see flecks of otherworldly glitter in his dark blue irises. Even worn-out and frowning like he was, he was still beautiful.