Aria was sitting at the edge of the bed when Perry stepped into her room. Her arms were crossed low, over her stomach. Only the small lamp by the bedside was lit. The light came off the shade in a perfect triangle, falling across her folded arms. The room held her scent. Violets of early spring. The first bloom. He could’ve gotten lost in that scent if it weren’t for the dankness of her temper.
Perry closed the door behind him. This room was smaller than the one he’d been given to share with Roar. He saw nowhere to sit but the bed. Not that he felt like sitting. But he didn’t want to stand by the door, either.
She looked over, her eyes swollen from crying. “Did Marron send you again?”
“Marron? No . . . he didn’t.” He shouldn’t have come. Why had he closed the door like he’d meant to stay? Now leaving would be strange.
Aria wiped the tears from her face. “That night in Reverie? I was in Ag 6 trying to find out if she was all right. The link with Bliss was down, and I was so worried. When I saw the message from her, I thought she was fine.”
Perry stared at the empty space by her side. Just four steps away. Four steps that looked like a mile. He took them like he was going to launch himself off a cliff. The bed rocked as he sat. What was wrong with him?
He cleared his throat. “They were just rumors, Aria. The Auds just spread things.”
“It could be true.”
“But it could be false, too. Maybe only part of it is destroyed. Like the dome that night? It was crushed where I came in.”
She turned to the painting on the wall, lost in thought. “You’re right. The Pods are built to break down in parts. There are ways of containing damage.”
She pushed her hair behind her ear. “I just want to know. I don’t feel like she’s gone. . . . But what if she is? What if I should be mourning her right now? What if I do and she’s not? I’m so afraid of guessing it wrong. And I hate that I can’t do anything about it.”
He bent over his knees and pulled at the edge of his cast.
“This is what you’ve felt about Talon. Isn’t it?”
He nodded. “Yes,” he said. “Exactly.” He’d been avoiding the fear that he might be doing everything in vain. That Talon was gone. He hadn’t allowed himself to think about that. What if Talon had died because of him? Where was Talon? Perry knew she understood. This Dweller girl knew what it was like to feel the torture of loving someone who was lost. Maybe gone forever.
“Marron says he’ll have the files and the link working by tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow,” she said.
The word hung in the quiet of the room. Perry drew a slow breath, working up the courage to say what he’d wanted to for days. Everything could change when they fixed the Smarteye. This could be his last chance to tell her.
“Aria . . . everyone feels lost and low. It’s how a person acts that makes them different. These last days you kept going despite those feet. Despite not knowing your way . . . Despite me.”
“I can’t tell if that was a compliment or an apology.”
He peered at her. “Both. I could’ve been kinder to you.”
“You could have at least said a little more.”
He smiled. “I don’t know about that.”
She laughed, and then her eyes turned serious. “I could have been kinder too.”
She scooted herself back against the headboard. Her dark hair fell straight to her shoulders, framing her small chin. Her pink lips turned up in a soft smile.
“I’ll forgive you on two conditions.”
Perry leaned back on his good arm and stole a look at her. Her body belonged in tight clothes, not in camos. He felt guilty looking, but he couldn’t help it. “Yeah? What are they?”
“First, tell me what your temper is like right now.”
He covered his surprised gasp with a cough. “My temper?” No way this was a good idea. He searched for a gentle way to say no. “I could try,” he said after a moment, and then pushed a hand through his hair, shocked at what he’d just agreed to do.
“All right. . . .” He fiddled with the edge of his cast. “Scents, the way I get them, are more than smells. They have weights and temperatures sometimes. Colors, too. I don’t think it’s like that for others. My bloodline on my father’s side is strong. Probably the strongest line of Scires.” He stopped himself, not wanting to sound boastful. He realized his thighs were flexed tight. “So, my temper right now is probably cool. And heavy. That’s what sorrow is like. Dark and thick, like stone. Like the scent coming off a wet rock.”
He glanced at her. She didn’t look like she wanted to laugh so he kept going. “There’d be more. Most of the time, a lot of times . . . there are a few scents in a temper. Nervous tempers are sharp scents. Like laurel leaves? Something bright and tingling like that? Nervous tempers are hard to ignore. So there’d be some of that probably.”
“Why are you nervous?”
Perry smiled down at his cast. “That question makes me nervous.” He made himself look at her. Looking at her wasn’t working either, so he pinned his gaze on the lamp. “I can’t do this, Aria.”
“Now you have an idea how it feels. How exposed I feel around you.”
Perry laughed. “That was tricky of you. You want to know what I’m nervous about now? That you have a second condition.”
“It’s not a condition. It’s more of a request.”
Every part of him was locked tight, waiting for what she’d say next.