She drops her hands from me and bites her lower lip again. This time, I’m almost sure it’s because she’s contemplating something.
“You’re right.” She sighs. “But I believe Jonathan and Dad will fix their problems over time. You don’t need to sacrifice yourself.”
My brows furrow. “Sacrifice?”
“Well, you already have…you know, a love interest. Marrying someone else is a sacrifice.”
“A sacrifice means slaughtering an animal or a person as an offering to a deity. In other words, it means giving up something valued for other considerations. I’m doing neither.” I allow a small smile to curve my lips. “If anything, I’m gaining something valuable.”
She releases a breath, which means she doesn’t understand my logic. It’s fine, I guess. It’s true Elsa understands some of my thinking, but she won’t get everything so fast.
Besides, no one actually knows me — or at least not the way they think.
They don’t see the constant shadow over my shoulder or the tears trapped in the middle of nowhere.
Only I do.
“What does Knox think about this?” she asks.
“He—” I’m cut off when a strong hand wraps around my shoulder. It’s so sudden, I stiffen and lift my elbow.
A dark figure is grabbing me, his fingers are on me, his smell, his damn —
“Did I hear my name?” An awfully cheerful voice cuts into the usual vicious cycle of thoughts.
My brother. Knox. It’s only Knox.
Usually, I’m okay with someone touching me when I see it coming, like when Elsa clutched my shoulders earlier. I saw her before I felt her and that was fine, but a sudden attack always triggers this stony state.
“Sorry,” Knox whispers, and he loosens his hold.
He of all people knows how it feels. That darkness, feeling without seeing — all of it.
I lift a shoulder, pretending I wasn’t on the verge of an episode. He masks his apology with a grin as he plants himself between me and Elsa, clutching each of us by a shoulder.
Knox and I are fraternal twins, but we barely look like siblings. Where my hair is black, his is chestnut. All his features are like those of models — or gigolos; I can’t actually tell the difference. It’s a serious issue — don’t judge. I don’t think it’s okay to compare your brother to a gigolo, but he is one in some ways. For one, he’s charming with a happy-go-lucky personality he only uses to get things done.
And he talks a lot, like a fucking lot. It gives me headaches.
“So what’s with me?” He nudges us both. “Is this some conspiracy, Game of Thrones-style? Because I watched all the seasons — I can tell.”
Elsa laughs. “I was just asking Teal what you think about her new decision.”
He retrieves a packet of crisps and throws two into his mouth then offers the rest to us. We both refuse — Elsa because it’s forbidden to eat food outside the cafeteria and she follows the rules a lot, and me because I don’t eat that junk food. I picked my poison, and it’s dark chocolate.
“More for me.” He grins, swallowing a handful.
I nudge him so he’ll give me some space. He’s crunching in my ear, the sound heightened with his proximity, and that’s another way for the triggers to seep in.
Knox releases me, now only holding on to Elsa.
“So, what do you think?” she insists.
“Me?” He feigns innocence. “I don’t care.”
Liar.
“Really?” Elsa grabs him by the elbow.