I hadn’t gotten a chance to tell her how I felt when she’d come into the room upright and lucid; I had tried to tell her in words in our argument, but everything had kept coming out jumbled and wrong somehow, overprotective, angry. So I tried to tell her now, with my lips, something I was unable to put into words. Slowly, softly, we tasted each other for the first time in what felt like years. I was incredibly delicate, and I took my time, enjoying the soft little murmur of pleasure she let out against my lips, the way her mouth pressed harder into mine, trying to get a reaction out of me.
There was no way we were doing anything more than this gentle kiss when she was so injured, but parts of me that had been silent, crushed under the weight of sleeplessness and constant worry for our lives, came awake at even this soft touch. I groaned, and allowed my hand to gently brush up her left arm and over the sides of her neck, like she was a fragile thing instead of the tough, resourceful girl I knew her to be.
“HEY, VIOLET!” I froze at the excited shout that cut through the door. Violet’s eyes shot open; she and I barely had a moment to exchange glances when the door was thrown open.
Jay bounded into the room, his youthful face a mask of pure excitement, completely unaware of the tender moment he’d interrupted. I’d managed to pry my lips from Violet’s in the second we’d had before he saw, swinging myself up into a sitting position. Meanwhile, Violet carefully turned herself over onto her back, her face grimacing in pain again, and looked up at the young man as he gave a whoop and flung himself at her.
“Jay—” I winced and surged forward to hold him off if I needed to, but reason caught up with Jay, and he paused just short of tackling Violet with a hug. He hovered instead, his blue eyes filling with concern as he took in her bandaged head and bruised face. She looked self-conscious, though I couldn’t see why, but seemed to push it aside, smiling at the younger man.
“Hi, Jay,” she said, sitting up and holding her arms open to him. Relief lit his features, and he carefully slid in to hug her, obviously taking great pains to rein in his incredible strength. She held him close with a light grip. I’d seen him around the base various times during Violet’s convalescence, but I realized she hadn’t, and it was plain to see the relief on her face that he was all right, save for a few small cuts and bruises on the side of his face.
He let go of her and perched on the side of the bed. She reached out and lightly touched the side of his face, where the bruises and scrapes were already mending. “How’d this happen?” she asked. I felt no jealousy watching her tenderness with the young man; he felt as much her brother as Tim did, after all, and it was sweet to watch her dote on him.
Jay frowned and looked away, his cheeks coloring slightly. “I, uh… ran into a wall in the palace,” he admitted. “We were being chased, and someone was firing, so I had to get low quickly. I wound up slipping.”
“Not bad at all, considering what could have happened,” I pointed out.
“Yeah,” Jay said, some nervousness emerging in his tone.
Violet frowned and lowered her fingers. “I’m glad you’re okay,” she said. It had apparently been the wrong thing to say, however, as Jay shot her, then me, a guilty look.
She cocked her head. “What’s wrong?”
His shoulders slumped and he stared up into her eyes, his eyes tearful. I had no time to worry what this was about, although I was beginning to guess…
“I’m so sorry, Violet,” he said, his voice thick. “I should’ve been the one to stay behind. But I thought Tim was right behind us. By the time we noticed he was gone…”
Realization dawned, and I felt a jarring sense of empathy. From the look on Violet’s face, she felt the same way. Of course Jay blamed himself. All of us felt horrible about Tim, and Jay had probably been the first person to know he was missing; why should he be any different?
I tried to find words to say, but Violet was ahead of me. Reaching out, she took Jay’s hand in her own, patting it gently. “It’s okay, Jay,” she soothed him, taking a deep breath. “It’s not your fault. Tim did what he thought was right, and I’m sure if your positions had been reversed, you would’ve done the same thing.”
“But I should’ve done it,” the young man practically shouted, his voice belligerent. “I should’ve been the one to stay!”
I sighed and shook my head as Violet continued to pat his hand. “Let me ask you a question,” she said. “When you found Quinn, how did you decide who would carry him?”