Shadows Over Arcadia Chapter 65: 64. Normal

Read chapter 65 of Shadows Over Arcadia by Zacheas on NovelPedia.

I am Maribel Holloway, 16 years old and bonded to Envy, traveling to the village of Fel with my close friend Shadow. https://shadowsoverarcadia.com/api/storage/objects/uploads/3436dbb7-6e63-4972-b7d2-a17b68e373de I’m cuddled against Shadow’s side on the wagon’s driver’s seat, hugging his left arm with my whole body. That hand rests on the inside of my thigh, and I find myself shifting against it with every jolt in the road. Every dip and bump rubs me against him. The road ahead of us is long, stretching through rolling valleys stirred by a gentle breeze under a warm, relaxing sun. I could almost melt into him, if not for an agonizing itch I can’t reach, one I have no way to scratch. I look up at Shadow in quiet desperation. He’s still wearing my ragged black cloak around his head. I had claimed his arm when Envy’s and my words of comfort were spent, hoping that by clinging to him he would understand how much I need him. Perhaps he understood; he indulged my gesture. I could never have moved him on my own, after all. I’m such a mess, aren’t I? “It’s a normal thing to want,” Envy whispers in my mind. Normal? What part of this is normal? There is something twisted, something wrong with me! For so long, ever since… I’ve been afraid of the touch of men. For years I have lived in fear of them, questioned every intention, guarded my body and my heart. I wouldn’t allow anyone to get close enough to hurt me again. I was alone, and that was okay, because I was safe. “You weren’t wrong to protect yourself. You’re not wrong to want him,” Envy says consolingly. The heat rises between my legs and I can’t help letting out a little frustrated squeal as I hug his arm tighter, eyes squeezed shut. The reason I feel safe with Shadow, the reason I was able to open up my heart and love him, is because I know he doesn’t want me, could never want me, for my body. His intentions are so pure, a kindness, “a love” with no ulterior motive. So then why, why, gods, why do I now so badly want something from him that scares me, something I know he doesn’t desire, and that, if he did desire it, would make me fear him? “Feelings don’t always have to make sense,” I can almost hear Envy’s shrug in her words. I hear a creak of metal as Shadow’s weight shifts slightly, and I assume his head has turned toward me at my squirming outburst. Then, as if trying to comfort me, the big idiot pats me with the hand pinned between my thighs. Far from comforting me, the sensation sends a shiver from my toes all the way to my cheeks, which flush red hot. “Shadow!” I squeal, hugging his arm even tighter. “Yes?” Shadow asks with a note of confusion. “You big idiot,” I mutter, doing my best to calm myself. “What?” “Just say ‘sorry’ and continue to hold her close,” Envy says to us both. “Sorry,” Shadow says softly as he slowly pulls his arm from between my legs. He sets his hand on my opposite shoulder and gently guides me into him. I curl up against him, resting my head on his chest and wrapping my arms around him. The road is peaceful, the wind pleasant on my skin, and his arms are my sanctuary. I know Shadow and I will never have a normal relationship. Neither of us is capable of being normal. But I don’t ever want to lose what we have. We may both be bent and broken, but it is because of our broken parts that we fit together in a way no one else could. Before long we pass through the village of Windfeld and continue our journey south. We make a short stop to eat around midday. While Shadow feeds the mares correl roots and pats their heads, I go to retrieve lunch from his bag. I dig around for the biscuits Lady Willow gave us for the journey until my fingers brush against something smooth and curved, similar in feel to Envy’s mask. Confused, I glance down to check, but Envy’s mask is still tucked into my belt. I pull the object and the package of biscuits out of Shadow’s bag. It is another mithril mask, smaller than Envy’s, made to cover only the upper half of its wearer’s face