Page 505 - Fourth Wing

“We do leadership meetings for the sections in here sometimes,” he says

from the doorway.
I pivot to find him watching me with curious eyes, like he’s waiting for

me to pass judgment on his space. Walking past the sword rack, I let my

fingers graze across the handles of the different daggers. “How many
challenges have you won anyway?”

“The better question is how many have I lost,” he says, coming in and

closing the door behind him.
“There’s the ego I know and love so much,” I mutter, making my way to

the bed, which, just like mine, is outfitted in black.

“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?” His voice lowers. “If
not, I’m a fool, because you are magnificently beautiful.”

Heat rises in my cheeks, and my mouth curves into a smile. “Thank you.
Now sit.” I pat the edge of his bed.

“What?” His eyebrows rise.

“Sit,” I order, staring him down.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I never said you had to.” There’s no need to ask what it is, nor am I
going to let what happened nearly six years ago drive a wedge between us,

not even for one night.

To my absolute surprise, he does as I ask, sitting on the side of his bed.
His long legs stretch out in front of him, and he leans back slightly on the

heels of his hands. “Now what?”

I move between his thighs and run my fingers through his hair. He closes
his eyes and leans into my touch, and I swear, I feel my heart crack wide

open. “Now I take care of you.”

His eyes fly open and gods, are they beautiful. I’ve memorized every
gold fleck in those onyx depths, and it’s a good thing, since I don’t know

where he’ll be sent after graduation. Seeing him once every few days isn’t
the same as being able to touch him anytime I like.