Blind Fate

Lycoris woke with a start and ran from her room to the source of the shout that had roused her. As she rushed into the living room, she saw Jake’s pale, apologetic face. Half of her wanted to smile and she couldn’t remember why—her mind was focused on his bloody foot.

“What the fuck happened?” She asked brusquely as she walked over to him.

“I don’t really know—be careful!” He held out a hand in warning. “There’s glass on the floor. I tried to get up to go to the bathroom and stepped on some.”

“Oh shit,” Lycoris grumbled. “You dropped a glass last night... I must have forgotten to clean it up. I’m sorry.” She was finally brave enough to meet his gaze, if only for a moment. He offered her a wan smile. “I’ll get something to put on it.” She returned after a moment with a dish towel, trash can and dust-buster. “Here.” Ly handed him the towel. “Try to stop the bleeding.”

“I’m sorry,” Jake said suddenly.

She didn’t even look up. “For what?” She asked, carefully picking up the larger pieces of glass and placing them in the garbage can.

He made no reply aside from a heavy sigh, which she ignored. She knew he was talking about the night before—what else could he be talking about? It had been a wonderful kiss, of course, but it had been foolish. They shouldn’t be together and they both knew it. In the light of day, her fantasy of being with him seemed ridiculous. He was Hayden’s ex-fiance. If Hayden was angry just seeing them together, she would be furious to know they were dating. It wasn’t like Ly needed to date Jake. Frankly, that was silly romance novel bullshit. Nobody needed to be with anyone else. Lycoris didn’t even really want to be with anyone—not to fall in love, not to get married, not to lose herself to another person. None of it was worth it. She chalked up the previous night to temporary insanity brought on by depression and very-blue eyes.

Hayden was one of the very few people she loved. She was one of several people in the whole world who cared if Ly lived or died. How could Ly even think of letting that go? And for a boy nonetheless. It was pathetic. It was juvenile. It was so unlike Ly in every way, and she was both horrified and ashamed to admit that it had crossed her mind. She turned on the dust-buster to pick up any slivers of glass left in the carpet and tried to tune out her thoughts. It was difficult with Jake so close. She could hardly stand him being nearby. She finished cleaning up the rest of the glass and asked curtly, “How’s the bleeding?”

Without a word he lifted the towel off of his foot to reveal a small cut. Ly could even see the piece of glass sticking out a bit. “I’ll go get some tweezers.” As she walked into the bathroom she could hear him mumbling to himself and tried to keep herself from wondering what he was saying, and if it was about her. It didn’t matter, she reminded herself. He doesn’t matter. She would clean him up, throw a Band-aid on his foot and send him on his way. Maybe offer him a cup of coffee to apologize for the glass. That was it—nothing more. She didn’t want anything more from him. He was just one more stranger in a big city.

After a minute or two, Lycoris returned to the living room with tweezers, a few paper towels and a Dixie cup full of rubbing alcohol she had sterilized the tweezers with. “This will probably hurt,” she warned him gruffly. He looked at her, revealing little in his bright blue eyes, and removed the towel. The bleeding had mostly stopped. She wiped some of the blood away from the cut with a paper towel dipped in the alcohol. As gently as possible, she grabbed the piece of glass with the tweezers and pulled it from the wound. Judging by his gasp, it wasn’t gentle enough. “Sorry,” she said quietly, softening a bit. “Is there any more in there? Move your foot a bit. You would feel it if there was.” She looked up to meet his gaze, but his eyes were locked on his bloody foot. She felt a pang of regret that she both resented and rejected. It was just because she thought he was attractive, not because she felt anything for him. It was fascination, nothing more.

“No, I don’t feel anything.” His voice was flat, listless. Something in the lack of expression, in the statement itself, hurt her somewhere she wouldn’t acknowledge. Instead, she handed him back the towel and told him to put pressure on his foot while she went to fetch a bandage. She came back promptly, carrying a box of Band-aids and a tube of Neosporin. She took out the largest bandage in the box and tore it open, smearing ointment on it before gesturing to Jake to move the towel again. Lycoris lightly pressed the bandage to his foot, softly making sure it stuck. She dipped another paper towel into the alcohol and began to clean the rest of the blood from his foot. Suddenly his hand was on hers. She barely held back a gasp as she raised her brown eyes to his face. It was just as stony as before as he said, “I can do that myself.”

Clenching her jaw, she nodded and went to the kitchen to wash her hands and brew some coffee. She was almost afraid to go back into the living room. From her hiding place near the coffee maker she could hear Jake get up and shuffle to the bathroom. Ly let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

A few minutes later the coffee was ready and Jake was still in the bathroom, so Lycoris poured two cups and brought them to the coffee table with cream and sugar. She set down the coffee and started putting things away—the trash can and dust buster—before retrieving a fresh towel to put over the small bloodstain on her beige carpet and throwing the bloody one directly into the sink to soak. She turned on the hot water and washed her hands again as the sink filled, the water turning pink. Ly heard Jake open the bathroom door and stagger back to the couch, a brief pause and a soft involuntary noise of happiness the only clue that he saw the coffee.

Ly walked slowly back into the living room after drying her hands, picking up a mug and opting to lean against the doorframe rather than share the couch. She didn’t even bother adding sugar or half-and-half. She needed the bitterness to keep her alert. Jake sipped at his coffee and murmured, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“And for the glass as well.” He nodded to his bandaged foot.

“I’m sorry it was there in the first place. I should have cleaned it last night.”

At the mention of the previous night, Jake’s blank face went hard, like he was trying very hard to keep emotion from showing. “It’s not your fault. I was the one who stumbled drunk into your apartment.” He looked straight through her when their gazes met. She quickly looked away, brown eyes looking deep into the depths of her coffee mug. “I guess you changed your mind then.”

She looked up in surprised. His eyes weren’t repentant or embarrassed, they were disappointed. She swallowed thickly, feeling her heartbeat in her throat instead of the center of her chest all of a sudden and at the longing she saw in those blue eyes her stomach dropped. All her organs were evacuating her torso due to storm warnings. There was something bigger pushing them out—something warm and exultant and bright as fire. Jake placed his coffee on the table and limped closer to Ly. He took her mug from her and turned to set it on the table as well.

“Look,” he said softly, forcing her to meet his gaze. His eyes were hypnotic and Ly couldn’t look away as he spoke. “I’m not sorry. I might have been drunk and for that I apologize, but I’m not sorry for anything I said. I don’t care anymore what Hayden or anyone else thinks. I’m plenty old enough to make my own decisions. I don’t have feelings for you because you’re Den’s friend. I want to be with you despite it. She doesn't own either of us. I know we haven’t known each other very long at all, but I don’t fucking care anymore. I’m sorry you don’t feel the same, but I’m going to be honest. I want you to be with me. I think we could be really good together. Now, I’m going to kiss you, and that will be it.”

Ly’s mouth dropped open in surprise as he took her face in his hands and kissed. It wasn’t the tentative touch of the previous night, it was hard and unrelenting, but his hands on her cheeks were gentle. Every nerve in her body lit up like Christmas lights and the fire in her chest blazed. She balled her fists in Jake’s shirt, trying to push him away but completely incapable of doing anything but winding herself around him. She warred with herself, hating that she was giving in—knowing it was wrong, and refusing to admit that maybe it was right. It felt right. His lips moved against hers and butterflies sailed through her stomach and her heart exploded and her lips met his again and again. Her hands pulled him closer and she felt his fingers wandering through her hair like spring breezes. She felt quiet raindrops on her skin like summer showers and suddenly he was pulling back, panting. Again, the lightning was in his blue eyes, like a thunder storm on a perfectly clear day.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he chanted, untangling his hands from her hair and stumbling backwards. She looked at him in confusion and raised a hand to her cheek. The wetness on her cheeks wasn’t raindrops, it was tears.

“No,” she said softly, bemused. “I don’t know why I’m crying.”

“Are you sure?” He asked uncertainly, the lightning in his eyes fading behind the curtain of concern.

“It’s not you, Jake.” His eyes lit, this time with sunlight, when she said his name. “I’m just not sure if... If I can do what I want to.”

He took her hand kindly—in a way that encouraged her without asking anything but the truth in return. “What do you want, Lycoris?”

She squeezed his hand when he said her name. “I want to be with you.”