He turned his head, intending to yell more at Rowan, but stopped himself. Maybe it was the way the rain finally seemed to have tamed that wild curl he always tried to brush out of his hair, or maybe it was how his soaked clothes clung to his body, or the raindrops tracing their way down his cheeks, but Rowan looked so small. Sohurt. Dammit, it was his fault. He was the one who suggested he approach Tofi for a demonstration.
“Who was it?” Rowan asked.
“What?” Ieduin’s face twisted in confusion.
“Who hurt you?” His fingers twitched as if he were resisting making a fist.
“What are you talking about? I’m fine.”
“Don’t lie to me.” Rowan stepped in, closing the distance between them. “I was right next to you. I saw your face when Tofi channeled that other ghost. You gripped my hand so tightly you nearly broke it. I thought you were going to pass out. So, who was it? Who hurt you?”
Ieduin let out a huff of disbelief and turned away, running a hand through his hair to fix it. “Why do you care? He’s dead.” He flinched as Rowan put his palms flat on the door, resting on either side of his face.
“Who. Was. He?”
Ieduin shrugged, still not looking at Rowan. “Nobody, really. Just some asshole who thought he knew me.” He absently rubbed the scars on the inside of his left forearm. They rarely bothered him, but sometimes they ached when it stormed. “Ow!” Ieduin declared as Rowan seized his arm and twisted it.
Rowan yanked back his sleeve and Ieduin’s chest flooded with an icy chill as old scars were laid bare. He’d never felt so utterly naked as he did the moment Rowan’s eyes raked over the series of small horizontal lines down the inside of his arm. Normally, he kept them covered with clothes, or he had a special cream Aryn gave him that he could rub on them to make them mostly invisible, but with the colder weather approaching, he hadn’t bothered. It was just easier to wear long sleeves and avoid the conversation altogether.
He jerked his arm away and mumbled, “You should see the other guy.”
“Ieduin…”
“They’re from a long time ago.” He ducked under Rowan’s arm, pacing further into the room. He wrapped his arms around himself, fighting the chill. “I’m not that person anymore. I never want to be him again. I just… I don’t want to talk about it, okay?”
“I’ll respect that,” Rowan said.
It did nothing to ease the tightness in Ieduin’s throat. “Look, I didn’t come here for any of this. I came here to yell at you. Do you have any idea how dangerous magical backlash can be? You could’ve killed my mage commander. Then we’d all be fucked, and not in the fun way.”
“I wasn’t going to sit there and let you suffer through that, and now I’m even more certain I made the right decision.”
Ieduin sighed. “Will you just—” He broke off when he turned and found Rowan standingrightthere, far closer than he thought he was. So close, with his wet clothes clinging to his body, it was impossible not to notice the shape of him. Gods below, how could he stay angry at a man that looked like that beneath his clothes?
Rowan’s jaw flexed, and he stepped even closer. “Just what?”
“Don’t crowd me. I can’t think when you crowd me.” Ieduin swallowed and took a step back, but Rowan kept coming, walking him into another wall. He cursed when his back hit it and shrank against it. “What do you want from me?”
“Youcame tome,” Rowan pointed out.
“Yeah, well, it’s a good thing I did because you were probably going to get struck by lightning otherwise.” He swallowed and Rowan’s attention seemed to fix on the fluttering pulse in his throat.
Lightning flashed, illuminating a few stubborn raindrops clinging to Rowan’s drying hair. Gods, why did he have such a powerful urge to run his fingers through that hair? He wasn’t worthy of that, but he wanted so badly to be.
Ieduin pushed the thought away, buried it. He couldn’t afford to care that much, not about anyone, but especially not about someone like Rowan. Rowan was special. Ieduin couldn't give him everything he deserved. He had already given so many pieces of himself to everyone else that he wasn’t sure what he had left to give.
He snorted, giving Rowan a quick look up and down. “What? You want to fuck or something?”
The ghost of a smile touched Rowan’s lips. “If I say yes?”
Ieduin finally let himself meet Rowan’s intense gaze. “Then this is the part where I tell you I’m not your whore.”
“I don’t want you to be my whore,” Rowan murmured, leaning in.
Ieduin’s lips parted. All the air fled the room. He couldn’t breathe. Gods, why couldn’t he breathe? He wished he’d left the doors open. Storm be damned. Where was all the fucking air? “Then what do you want?”
Rowan gripped the side of Ieduin’s face lightly and traced a thumb over his bottom lip. “Mine,” Rowan said, his voice a rough growl. “I want you to be mine, wholly and completely. I want your laughter and your tears, your joy and your pain, your hate and your love. I want it all because I am a selfish bastard of a man. But today, right now, I will settle for a kiss.”
Without giving him a chance to object, Rowan leaned in the rest of the way and kissed him.