Page 19 of The Ballad of a Bard

T hey didn’t go to see her brother in the healing ward, instead heading for his apartments on the second floor. His hand gently pressured her along, moving beside him as he remained silent. Not a single sentence passed between them until they were confined inside his rooms.

“What did he want with you?” West asked as he slung off his grey satchel and set it to hang on his office chair.

“To get to know me. Or, that’s what he claims the reason for it was.” Crimson said. She followed his movements as he unbuttoned his jacket and shrugged it off his muscled shoulders, revealing the clean white tunic underneath.

“What did you talk about?”

“A little bit of everything. My name, how we met, how I liked the palace so far, how well I know you…” She trailed off as he started to push at the buckle on his pants. Crimson did everything within her power not to bite her bottom lip as his shirt tugged upwards a tad.

“And what did you tell him?” He asked as he unclipped his sword and added it to his chair .

She crossed her arms. “Is this an interrogation?”

He snapped his face up to hers, blanching. “No, not at all. Is it coming off that way?”

“A bit.”

“My apologies. That wasn’t my intention, at all.” West sighed, dragging a hand through the front of his hair. “Altivar most likely suspects that we aren’t telling the truth. He’s… tricky.”

“He’s an asshole.” Crimson mumbled. “I can see why you don’t like being forced to be around him.”

He let out a wry chuckle. “He’s not great, no.”

“Why don’t you tell Osira that?” She plodded over to the bed and sat on the end as he folded the linen of his shirt up to his elbows and came around into the other room. “I’m sure that if she knew how miserable her son was making you, that she’d assign you to another duty.”

West stopped messing with his attire. “ Because he’s an asshole . I’m sure there’s a long line of people that would be itching for the chance to kill him.”

She smirked, “Yourself included?”

He lifted a finger to his mouth, shushing her with a cheerful glint to his eyes. “You can’t let anyone in on that juicy little secret.” He earnestly smiled at her. “There are days, that’s for sure. All I can think about sometimes is shoving his arrogant face into the wall, or running him through my sword. But those are all just daydreams, fantasies.”

“He felt… oily, if that makes any sense. Even his touch was slimy.” She could still recall the sensation of his skin against hers, and it drove her the wrong way.

His brown head perked up. “He touched you?”

She didn’t dare to assume that it was jealousy.

Crimson bobbed her chin, repeating his motions for him. “It wasn’t anything past a casual brush of his fingers, but it still felt dirty.”

“He’s testing us, I can feel it.” West leaned up against the doorframe, even if there was no door that connected his office and the bedroom. “You told him the story we concocted?”

“He found it plausible.”

“Good, good.” He muttered as he stroked his chin. His bare chin, she noticed. There was no longer hair around any part of his lower face, clean and shaved.

“You shaved.” She rose, claiming a few steps closer. “When did you do that?”

West paused his actions and glanced down at his hand, as if he’d find his missing hair there. “Mhm, yesterday morning, I think.”

“Why?” Crimson almost reached up for his face, to turn it and examine it even further but halted herself before she could make that mistake. That was far too intimate for them. They were barely friends, after all.

He ran a hand over his features. “Dream was the one who originally gave me the facial hair. I’ve never been much of a fan of it myself.”

“Either suits you.” She beamed up at him before letting her expression drop. There was a momentary pause before she asked, “West, where have you been staying? The bed is never messy and I never see you in the morning.”

“The couch, in the other room.” He jerked his thumb towards it, as if she didn’t know where it was.

“The couch?” She became flustered, easily too whenever he was around. “But it’s tiny! There’s no way you’re comfortable and even getting a wink of sleep on it!”

A funny picture of him appeared in the forefront of her mind. Of his body curled up like a cat in sunlight, all odd angles on the couch as he tried to get some peaceful sleep. There was no situation or position that she could seem to think of that would allow him to slumber.

“It’s perfectly fine.” West insisted, but she wasn’t sold on the matter. Crimson tugged on his sleeve, beckoning him to come with her as she entered the room and pointed to the couch.

“Show me.”

“Show you, what?” He tilted his head in confusion as she glared up at him with all the intensity she could muster up and pour into it, trying to convince him. “How I lay on the couch?”

“Yes.” Crimson said. “Now.”

“No.” His lip twitched upwards in humour.

“Convince me that it’s comfortable, that you’re actually able to sleep like that, and I’ll let it go.” She refused to back down. Here she was, in his chambers, in his bed, because of him, and he was sleeping on the couch like he was the guest. It didn’t sit right with her. If anyone should have taken the cushions for a sleeping arrangement, it should have been her.

It became a staring contest, so she straightened her spine and squared her shoulders. Her hands found a place on her hips as she glowered up at him. There wasn’t much of a height difference, but there was enough to make it work. She’d faced men in the arena who wanted to kill Lyric, taken them down in a span of minutes and lived to tell the tale. A staring contest of confident wills with a living immortal felt like nothing compared to all of that.

“You’re stubborn.” West observed as he loured back down at her. “Wouldn’t have pegged you as that sort of girl.”

“You’re just scratching the surface, Saint. ” Crimson pursed her lips. “Now get on the couch, and show me how you sleep or I’ll drag you over there and make you.”

His eyebrows flew up, his eyes sparkled like fresh nebulas. “Oh would you now, Heartstrings?”

Her heart fluttered, her chest tightened to the point of pain and her head became as light as a floating, free falling feather. “I would.” But it didn’t come out as confidently as she intended it to.

Not when he was looking at her like that.

She gulped, trying to avoid breaking contact with him as he at last, finally, gave in to her whims.

A well-earned, fast victory.

Another one for her belt.

Honestly, her list of accomplishments was becoming quite long, especially considering how young she was. Not to mention the partial immortality that would grant her even more years.

“You’re incorrigible.” He groaned as he slapped his face but plopped down on the couch. His legs twisted up, bent at an angle as he propped his head up on one of the spare pillows, curved into a circle.

“Happy?”

She gaped at him in disbelief. “No!”

“No?” He frowned at her. “I showed you what you wanted to see.”

“West, that’s no way to sleep! Please, take the bed. It’s your bed, after all. I’m the guest. I’m the one who’s supposed to be sleeping on the couch.” Crimson insisted as he sat up, placing his black boots flat against the floor.

His mouth folded into a thin line. “You’ve been sleeping on a cot, barely made for one person, let alone two. I can handle sleeping here while you finally get the rest you deserve.”

There was a twinge of pity she beheld there and she hated it. It felt… miserable to see him looking at her like that. Like she should be ashamed of her previous living arrangements. She knew that he would never imply that, but it was there nonetheless .

“Sleep in the bed tonight or I’ll go sleep with Cobalt in the healing ward.” Crimson demanded, with perhaps a little bit of a looming threat. She was done with the strange, lonely feeling that overtook her in the middle of the night. For the reason why she felt unsafe here. Someone else in the bed with her, it just made sense in order to make her feel secure.

“No.” He pushed off the cushions and stalked over to her.

“I wasn’t asking, West.” She licked the top row of her teeth, annoyance darting through her like a buzzing mosquito.

“And I wasn’t answering.” He tried to wink at her and as he kicked off his boots before settling into the couch for the evening, as the dusk was heavily falling over the world, she moved faster than lightning.

Crimson bolted for the couch before he could sit down once more. She shoved her hip against him, falling flat against the soft pillows. With how comfortable they were, she would have been easily able to sleep here as well as the bed, without tossing and turning.

“Really? This is a childish argument, and an even more childish way to go about it.” West scowled at her as she took up the entirety of it, curling onto her side to get a better look at his vexing face.

“Compared to your immortal age, I am a child.” She retorted, and refused to get up from the couch, or even move an inch.

“Fine,” He started, and the surrendering tone of his word should have been enough to key her in to what he did next. “Act like a child, get treated like a child.”

Crimson shrieked as he plucked her off the couch and tossed her over his shoulder, slapping her backside lightly with the flat side of his hand. She let out a gasp at that, one that he seemed to grin at. His gait was sure as he strolled casually into the next room and heaved her onto the bed .

She was two steps ahead of him, though.

“I don’t think so, Heartstrings.” West anticipated her next action much to her chagrin, as she scrambled to get off of the bed and back to the couch. He knelt on the bed, trapping her between his knees and his arms as he caged her in with his body overtop hers. “You’re staying in this bed.”

Her blood turned to molten lava, spewing steam throughout her entire being. With the way he propped himself over her, there was no room for her to escape. Her heart was a slow, thick rhythm that pounded through her head. Her mouth became dry, so dry.

“Let me up, West!” She growled up at him, baring her teeth like a wild predator. He only smirked right back down at her and leaned closer.

“Oh, you thought I was asking, Heartstrings?” West chuckled, a rumble that was far deeper than his usual resonance. “Not in the slightest.”

She knew her cheeks turned bright red, because his navy eyes landed on them, constricting as he found her mouth. He seemed to pause his flirtatious flaunting, his chest going absolutely ridgid. They stayed like that for a solid minute, unable to look elsewhere but at the other.

“Fine.” West gave in at last, shifting off of her and freeing her from the cage of his muscular body. “But on one condition.”

“What is it?” Crimson tried to make her voice sound normal, tried to clear it of any of the desire that rolled through her like a tidal wave. There was no doubt in her mind anymore, she wanted him.

Saints sake , that was fast.

“If anything happens that you aren’t comfortable with, like if I accidentally brush against you or you want more room, then you’ll tell me.” He fell back to his knees, letting his weight settle there. “Give me your word, that you will. ”

She held her hand out. “I promise, West. I promise.”

“Good.” He took it slowly, locking his fingers around her wrist and shaking it once, twice. “Then I suppose I should get ready for bed. Do you want to use the washroom first, or shall I?”

“I’ll go first, if you don’t mind.” Crimson pushed herself out of the bed, her skin feeling as if someone set her on fire.

For once, she was perfectly fine with burning.

“Not at all.”

When the door was shut and she could hear him rummaging around in the room, she turned on the faucet and let the water run until it was ice cold. She cupped her hands, creating a bowl for the water to pool in. When there was more than enough, Crimson brought the liquid to her face and splashed it.

It wasn’t enough to calm her down, but it would have to do.