Time stilled. Or, maybe, time still passed. And the world still went on. Maybe it was just Carmen’s heart that had ceased functioning for a tiny infinity right then.
“Thank you,” he mumbled into her burning skin.
She swallowed, her hand trembling in his. “For what?” she asked quietly, her voice hoarse.
“For existing,” he replied, and she felt his lips curve into a smile against her cheek, causing her own mouth to lift upwards.
She thought back to this morning when she’d thought it would be a release if death just claimed her in her sleep. But now, standing here, with Asa’s legs on either side of her, her palm in his, and his lips pressed against her cheek, she was glad to be alive today.
She’d thought her death seemed like a welcoming thought, but here was a boy thanking her for being alive.
35.
Broken Things
Carmen’s hand in Asa’s was probably the only thing that held him rooted to the spot instead of him crumbling to the floor because his lips were on her cheek, and his nose was inhaling her scent even though it had no particular flavour like vanilla or spice, but Goddamn, she was in his veins, and there was no denying it.
She didn’t even smell like paint, though his senses picked up on a very faint trace of it lingering around her. No. Instead she smelt like the sudden gust of wind that blew past him when it disturbed the peace of the scattered autumn leaves on the sidewalks, carrying the smell of damp earth and a pleasant coldness with it.
And then it finally clicked in his head. She smelt like a late afternoon in the fall. Somehow that was simultaneously the vaguest and yet most accurate way to describe her scent.
The realisation made him smile against her skin again.
“Carmen,” he suddenly said, pulling back, but not moving his hands from where they were; one holding her palm, and the other cupping a side of her face.
“Yeah?” she replied, her voice slightly strained and eyes blinking really fast.
“What did you mean when you said we’d have met each other anyway?”
Her forehead crinkled. “What?”
“You said that you believed in coincidences being much more than just coincidences. That there was a reason why every single thing happened, including us meeting each other. And when I told you it’d have been tragic if ours was just another chance encounter where we never got to see each other again, you said we’d still cross paths.” Asa’s eyes followed his fingertips as they trailed down the side of her face and along the curve of her neck, not stopping as they ran along her collarbones and over the hollow right at the base of her throat.
“Yeah,” she whispered, her hand still slightly trembling in his.
“What’d you mean by that?”
Carmen blinked, and Asa watched as the wheels spun in her head, causing her brows to knit together and her mouth to drop open as if she was finally about to respond.
But he wouldn’t learn her response because the door to the art room swung open right then. Carmen flinched, jumping back a few steps. At the same time, Asa’s back straightened and he swung his head towards the intruder.
Hunter walked in casually, one hand in his pocket and the other tapping away at his phone as he smirked at whatever he was seeing on the screen. He must have sensed that he wasn’t the only one in the room though, because his head snapped up, and he instantly froze in his tracks when his eyes landed on Asa fist.
His mouth twisted into a scowl, “Ah, San Ro—” but Hunter didn’t continue with his sneer when he noticed Carmen standing a feet away, his cold eyes zeroing in on their joined palms.
Asa didn’t know what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t the way Hunter’s thin lips curved upwards into a calculating, malicious smile.
“Carmen,” he said quietly, eyes gleaming with the euphoria that was found in the eyes of a predator who’d just sought out its new prey.
Asa felt Carmen’s fingers slowly loosen their hold around his hand, as if all the energy was being sucked out of her with each second that Hunter stood there.
“Nice to see you, dear cousin.” He grinned at her, no traces of mirth or affection in his gesture. “I see you’ve met our resident saviour.” Hunter nodded in Asa’s direction, keeping his eyes fixed on Carmen. “If you’re ever having trouble in school, apparently he’s the guy to go to. A huge softie on the inside and all that shit.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Asa snapped, shooting up from his seat on the table’s edge and rising up to his full height even though his mind was spinning from the discovery that Hunter Donoghue was actually related— by blood, no less—to Carmen.
But Carmen was saying nothing, and that rubbed Asa the wrong way. He’d never experienced a confrontation with her beside him, so he didn’t really know how she’d normally reacted to one, but the aloof demeanour she was slipping into just didn’t seem right.
It only further confirmed his suspicions that something was very wrong when she pulled her palm out of his grasp completely and folded her arms across her chest, pursing her lips together until they were almost invisible.
“Come on, Carmen,” Hunter coaxed. “You’re hurting my feelings now. Aren’t you going to say hi to your favourite cousin?”
Silence stretched on for a few painful moments, before Carmen cleared her throat and looked up at Hunter. “Hi, Hunter,” she muttered, her voice shaking the tiniest bit.
“See, that wasn’t so hard.” He shrugged, watching her for some time before averting his devious gaze towards a confused and lost Asa. “Damaged goods, that one,” he said, motioning with his thumb towards Carmen who
