Page 38 of Phantom Flower

We reached the corner table. I slid into the booth, expecting him to take the seat across from me like a normal person.

Of course he didn’t.

He dropped down right beside me.

He leaned his elbow on the table, head propped on his palm.

I forced myself to mirror the posture, leaning on my own palm.

After we ordered, he asked, “Why did you punch him?”

“He was bullying my friend. I wasn’t going to stand there and watch.”

Dimitri’s eyes stayed on me. He didn’t look surprised. If anything, he seemed satisfied.

Which made sense. He loved violence.

I didn’t.

I hated it, but I really loved Marco and I hated when someone was hurting him.

He didn’t push for more details. Instead, his gaze dropped to my untouched croissant, then back up to my face.

“Why do you always eat so little?”

I stiffened.

Then I shrugged it off.

“I don’t have an eating disorder if that’s what you think,” I said, my fingers twisting the edge of the napkin. “I just prefer not eating at home. And then I forget at school. Especially when you’re terrorizing me.”

I waited for the taunt. But Dimitri just watched me. Then he reached over, broke off a piece of my croissant with his fingers, and held it out to me.

“Eat.”

I stared at him.

I wanted to say no.

But instead, I leaned forward.

I took a bite.

Dimitri’s eyes stayed on my mouth as I chewed.

“Good boy.”

I blushed.

***

I had dragged Marco across the street to the small park that bordered Bloodburn’s east gate, the same place we always escaped to sometimes.

Marco sat cross-legged on the grass in front of me, sketchbook balanced on his knees, pencil moving in nervous strokes.

He always doodled when he was scared.

His dark curls kept falling into his face and he kept blowing them away with a soft puff of air. He looked so small.