Citrine (Deliverance #3)

47. Wroahk

47

Wroahk

She's asleep again and I am watching her. She told me what she was called once. What was it?

'Eli. You can call me that and I'll call you Wroahk.'

That is what she said. Eli. That is her name. I have never referred to her by her name before, but I've always known it.

I rejected the idea of using it before. Why?

I would be acknowledging her.

I would be acknowledging these feelings and would be acknowledging her as equal to me. It was an impossible ask at the time because I knew just how weak she was. She is still weak, and I still have to protect her.

Except she needs more from me than that if I want to keep her from seeking her freedom and that means acknowledging her.

"E…Eli…" I murmur, trying to get the sound out of my throat.

I don't even know what it means, and I don't know if I'm pronouncing it correctly. However, I know its significance.

"Eli," I try again, trying to imprint it on my tongue.

She stirs unexpectedly, like she hears me calling her, and I let out a breath when she doesn't wake up. I don't know if I can call her by her name just yet. It still feels like my tongue can't quite manage the shape of it.

The sound of her name, her quiet breaths, and the subtle air bubbles that follow her every exhale, the tiny jerks of her limbs and the warmth of her body keep me up as I watch her.

She wakes up and wiggles out of my hold, staring intently at me. She likes looking at my face, like she's reading for information.

Sometimes, it's unnerving how accurate she can be.

"How long have you been staring at me? Nevermind, can we go look for others now?"

I suddenly feel exhausted.

"Eat first."

I push my body to hunt for her, gathering as many of the bottom feeders as I can before barely stopping myself before pushing them down her throat. She only struggles when she's feeding, but she doesn't do much after that. I know she longs for the surface, but she cannot go there. There is no place for her there anymore.

I feel even more exhausted. I have gone many days without sleeping on a hunt before, so I know my exhaustion is not physical. It is because of all the thinking I'm doing? But even that isn't quite right.

I've been thinking hard since the moment I met her. It doesn't explain this heaviness in my limbs. This lethargy.

My mind shifts back to figuring out ways to delay her, then remember she was making something on the shore. I take her back to it, relieved when it works and she goes back to whatever odd thing she is making.