Yep, he’s returned to his normal, Asha-hating ways.
I attack seven more burrows, searching for blue bugs, getting better with each raid.
It’s the ninth burrow that has them, and instead of gasping when they swarm, I giggle, feeling relieved.
Ramsey stands off to the side, watching with a sad smile on his lips.
Perhaps giving myself wholly to him was a mistake, but I was determined to, and even requested more intoxicant to give myself courage.
What was I thinking?
Now I’ll have to deal with him in and around the village, knowing how he’s capable of making me feel.
Knowing that in his eyes, I’m not worthy.
There’s no point in ignoring him or cowering, as he’ll always be a part of my life. I need to show him we can coexist without me melting into a puddle.
Impossible.
Still, I have to try.
Looking over my shoulder, I shout, “I have all I need.”
“Then we must clean them.” He pulls a cup from his bag, filling it with water from a nearby creek.
“The outer shell is what has the color, so all you need do is scrape out the soft center.”
I scrunch my nose. “Yuck!”
“You are the one who wanted to traipse through the forest for bugs.”
“I suppose, but it’s more for Elena than anyone else. I’m making a blanket for her baby and I need their stupid shells.”
“A blanket?” Ramsey scoffs. “The baby will not want for blankets with all we have.”
“In Penticar, it’s customary to give new mothers a gift for their baby. When Grixis found this out, he asked if I could make a blanket such that they would receive back in Penticar, so that he could give it to her.”
He looks down, his expression contemplative. “That is…most thoughtful.”
“After Nori gave me the shells to turn into dye, I had an idea, and I think I know exactly how to weave it.” I hold up a red-shelled bug. “I can’t wait to get back to the village and get started.”
“I will see that you are not disturbed,” he says.
Gone is his flirty banter, replaced with guarded words and awkward silences. Deep down, I knew this would happen, yet I still took him, begging for him to fill me. I thought I could handlewhat we would become afterward. Which is…what even is this? Friendship?
The worst part is the remorse that lines his face. That I am his regret—his moment of weakness.
I put down the shell I’d been cleaning and take a deep breath.
“Ramsay?” I say, my voice trembling.
He looks up at me, his brow lifting in question.
“I was wrong…”
His eyes scan down to the dead bugs I’ve been cleaning. “Are these not the correct insects?”
“It’s not the bugs, Ramsey. It’s…” A chill runs up my spine, possibly from a ribbon, or maybe just plain fear. “It’s whatever this is between us. It’s these feelings that swirl around my insides, making me think of you in such a way that makes me blush. It’s wanting you so badly I want to scream.” I pause to catch my breath. “But I see the way you look at me. How you’ve been looking at me all morning, like I’m your dirty castle secret.”
