I knew that she’d chosen her clothes with care, that she’d been determined to show me this, but the way she held herself now, shoulders tight, legs braced, made me wonder if she wasn’t second-guessing the decision now.
I finished my circle, then closed the last few feet between us. I couldn’t stop staring, even to blink.
“Edythe,” I breathed.
“Are you scared now?” she whispered.
“No.”
She stared searchingly into my eyes, trying to hear what I was thinking.
I reached toward her, deliberately unhurried, watching her face for permission. Her eyes opened even wider, and she froze. Carefully, slowly, I let my fingertips graze the glistening skin on the back of her arm. I was surprised to find it just as cold as ever. While my fingers were touching her, the reflections of the fire flickered against my skin, and suddenly my hand wasn’t mediocre anymore. She was so astonishing that she could make even me less ordinary.
“What are you thinking?” she whispered.
I struggled to find words. “I am… I didn’t know…” I took a deep breath, and the words finally came. “I’ve never seen anything more beautiful—never imagined anything so beautiful could exist.”
Her eyes were still wary. Like she thought I was saying what I thought she wanted to hear. But it was only the truth, maybe the truest, most uncensored thing I’d ever said in my life. I was too overwhelmed to filter or pretend.
She started to lift her hand, then dropped it. The shimmer flared. “It’s very strange, though,” she murmured.
“Amazing,” I breathed.
“Aren’t you repulsed by my flagrant lack of humanity?”
I shook my head. “Not repulsed.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You should be.”
“I’m feeling like humanity is pretty overrated.”
She pulled her arm from under my fingertips and folded it behind her back. Rather than take her cue, I took a half-step closer to her. I could feel the reflected shine on my face.
And she was suddenly ten feet away from me, her warning hand up again and her jaw clenched.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“I need some time,” she told me.
“I’ll be more careful.”
She nodded, then walked to the middle of the meadow, making a little arc when she passed me, keeping those ten feet always between us. She sat down with her back to me, the sunlight incandescent across her shoulder blades, reminding me of wings again. I walked slowly closer, and then sat down facing her when I was about five feet away.
“Is this all right?”
She nodded, but she didn’t look sure. “Just let me… concentrate.”
I sat, silent, and after a few seconds, she shut her eyes again. I was fine with that. Seeing her like this—it wasn’t something you could get tired of. I watched her, trying to understand the phenomenon, and she ignored me.
It was about a half hour later that suddenly she lay back on the grass with one hand behind her head. The grass was long enough to partially obscure my view.
“Can I…?” I asked.
She patted the ground beside her.
I moved a few feet closer, then another foot when she didn’t object. Another few inches.
Her eyes were still closed, lids glistening pale lavender over the dark fan of lashes. Her chest rose and fell evenly, almost like she was asleep, except there was somehow a sense of effort and control to the motion. She seemed very aware of the process of breathing in and out.
I sat with my legs folded under me, my elbows on my knees and my chin on my hands. It was very warm—the sun felt strange on my skin now that I was so used to the rain—and the meadow was still lovely, but it was just background now. It didn’t stand out. I had a new definition of beauty.
Her lips moved, and the light glittered off them while they… almost trembled. I thought she might have spoken, but the words were too quiet, and too fast.
“Did you… say something?” I whispered. Sitting next to her like this, watching her shine, made me feel the need for quiet. For reverence, even.
“Just singing to myself,” she murmured. “It calms me.”
We didn’t move for a long time—except for her lips, every now and then singing too low for me to hear. An hour might have passed, maybe more. Very gradually, the tension that I hadn’t totally processed at first drained quietly away, till everything was so peaceful that I was almost sleepy. Every time I shifted my weight, I would end up another half-inch nearer to her.
I leaned closer, studying her hand, trying to find the facets in her smooth skin. Without even thinking about it, I reached out with one finger to stroke the back of her hand, awed again by the satin-smooth texture, cool like stone. I felt her eyes on me and I looked up, my finger frozen.
Her eyes were peaceful, and she was smiling.
“I still don’t scare you, do I?”
“Nope. Sorry.”
She smiled wider. Her teeth flashed in the sun.
I inched closer again, stretched out my whole hand to trace the shape of her forearm with my fingertips. I saw that my fingers were trembling. Her eyes closed again.
“Do you mind?” I asked.
“No. You can’t imagine how that feels.”
I lightly trailed my hand over the delicate structure of her arm, followed the faint pattern of bluish veins inside the crease at her elbow. I reached to turn her hand over, and when she realized what I wanted, she flipped her palm up in a movement so fast it didn’t exist. My fingers froze.