"'You almost glow—what do you think of Lucius? It means light in Latin; I think it suits you perfectly.'"
I woke with a jolt, my eyes opening suddenly.
"This dream again…?" I muttered.
It was five in the morning. The floor-to-ceiling window of my bedroom, facing the tall trees, was clouded over, as if the cold had frozen it from the outside. The standing lamp filled the room with a dull yellow light, but my hands—and whatever was inside me—were cold, shaking.
I was watching the heavy silence outside when the faint creak of the half-open door pulled my eyes toward it. A shadow. I caught it just as it disappeared.
I rubbed my eyes and slowly got out of bed. The house heated itself, so I was wearing white linen shorts with blue stripes and an oversized white sweatshirt that fell over them.
My steps toward the kitchen were slow. Careless.
When I saw Ace, my blurred vision cleared a little.
He was at the far end of the large white table, his head buried in his hands. His breathing was heavy, but quiet enough to almost disappear. His red hair had fallen around his arms.
I watched him for a while, then moved silently toward the sink. Behind it, there was a large glass window—like the one in my room—looking out over the forest. Sometimes I saw animals there. Deer. Squirrels. Crows. I had tried, more than once, to feed them. To get closer.
The sun started to rise.
It was too bright. I found myself wanting to watch it anyway.
I took a mug of coffee and stepped out onto the veranda through the glass door to the right of the cabinets. I sat on the rocking chair and pulled my legs up. Holding the mug with both hands, I let the heat seep into them. My breath came out in pale vapor. Cold and warmth at the same time. Something about it felt wrong.
I closed my eyes and breathed in the steam of the coffee.
I lived for moments like this.
Not to collect them.
Just to be part of them.
A sound. A crack from somewhere beyond the trees.
I froze and looked straight ahead.
There was something there. A shape, barely there. I narrowed my eyes, trying to make it out.
"Are you alright? Is something wrong with your eyes?"
I flinched at the voice behind me. Tired. Soft. It could only be him.
"I saw you… but it was already too late to call out," I said, without turning.
He came closer with slow, heavy movements and sat down beside me on the wicker chair.
Only then did I notice.
Blood.
His face. His clothes. Covered in it. Even the long scar running down the left side of his eye was almost hidden under dried blood.
I wasn't surprised. I had seen this too many times. He didn't look away. As if none of it mattered, he seemed about to speak. Then stopped. The words never came.
"…"
"Aren't you going to take a shower? You're covered in blood," I said, looking away.
If I didn't break eye contact, he wouldn't either. When I looked back to where I had seen the shadow, it was gone.
Probably a hallucination.
"Cora…" Ace said quietly.
I understood what he wanted to say. At least, I thought I did.
"You should shower first," I said, still not looking at him.
For a while, I just watched the trees move in the wind.
Silence.
Then Ace stood up and went upstairs, his steps heavy, dragging.
I exhaled slowly.
It felt like I had been holding my breath for too long. Ace was always like this. Strange. And Coraline knew there was nothing to think about. Not really. But that voice in her head didn't care. It came anyway. It stayed.
She tilted her head slowly, side to side, as if trying to loosen something, then leaned back, locking her hands behind her head.
Footsteps.
He was coming back down. She looked up.
Ace stood in the kitchen doorway. He was wearing loose black linen pants. Nothing else. Water was still dripping from his red hair, running down to his neck, his face, his chest. Some of it fell from the strands over his eyes and nose.
His body looked like something carved out of stone. Too clean. Too still. The black snake tattoo that wrapped from his neck down his right arm felt wrong on him. Like it didn't belong to his ice-cold skin.
His left eye was lighter than the right. Too light. Because of his mysteriously vanished past. It made him look like two different people.
His hands hung at his sides. Useless. Like he didn't know what to do with them. He wasn't even holding a towel.
Water dripped onto the floor.
He didn't move.
He just stood there, as if waiting for something.
When Coraline noticed him, she pressed her fingers against her temple, as if trying to push something back down. Then she pointed at the couch.
He sat where she indicated. Quietly. Without a word. His face didn't change. It never did.
"You can't walk around like this. It's minus five. If someone saw you, they'd be scared," she said.
Ace looked at her.
Slowly.
"But you're wearing shorts."
It landed. Clean.
Coraline didn't answer.
She stood up, walked to the cabinets on the right, and took the first aid kit. Then she came back and stood in front of him.
Before opening it, she took his chin in her hand. Gently.
His face was too pale. Like something had stopped moving inside him.
She lifted his head so he would look at her.
He didn't.
His eyes dropped to the floor. His long, pale lashes didn't move. He wasn't blinking.
His real hair was blonde. Sometimes she forgot that, but the lashes tell the truth every time.
Her hand moved without thinking, brushing against his face.
She stopped.
His hand closed around hers.
Not tight. But enough.
He still wouldn't look at her.
She pulled away.
Opened the kit.
Cleaned the wounds. One by one. Slow. Careful. Then the bandages.
He didn't move at all. Didn't react. Just waited, staring at the floor.
When she was done, she closed the kit and put it back. Then she brought a blanket and draped it over him.
"See you," she said.
Then she left.
She didn't try to talk. Neither would he.
He had done what he thought he needed to do.
Nothing more.
Something empty kept pressing at her mind. She couldn't name it. So she tried not to think about it at all. Forced herself to focus on something else.
Sometimes, she felt like she was getting too close to the edge.
So she needed something to pull her back.
Pain. Cold. Adrenaline.
They reminded him he was still human.
Sometimes it got worse.
She would suddenly find himself staring at her hands, breathing hard.
She didn't feel like she was here.
Her body was. But her mind kept trying to convince her otherwise.
Maybe this was what it meant to be human.
She pressed her aching head into the pillow and shut her eyes tightly.
And once again, Coraline fell into a deep sleep.