Pestilence by Laura Thalassa
Chapter 31
The next morning, I shuffle into the kitchen, noting the cold plate of scrambled eggs and ham left on the table alongside an empty mug, a tea bag, and a thermos full of hot water.
My finger idly touches the rim of the mug as I glance out a nearby window. The sun is already high in the sky. I rub my head, mussing my brown hair.
Slept too long—long enough for our dying hosts to make me breakfast.
The sound of Pestilence’s heavy steps has my entire body going haywire. It can’t decide whether I should squeal or bolt from the room.
“Good morning, Sara.”
I force myself to turn and look normal and not like I eavesdropped on things last night that I shouldn’t have. “Um, morning.”
The horseman’s gaze is deep, his eyes full of all those things he was waxing poetic on last night.
Don’t act like you didn’t tuck away each one of those compliments to savor later.
“Where are Rob and Ruth?” I ask, grabbing the thermos and busying myself making a cup of tea.
Pestilence’s face turns somber. “The plague has begun to exact its toll.”
My skin burns hot with guilt, and for an instant, I feel just as sick as they must. I’m eating their breakfast and sleeping in their bed like Goldilocks while they die from the plague I literally brought to their doorstep.
The horseman steps in closer, staring down at the tea I’m steeping.
When you laugh, I think I might truly die.
“I understand alcohol, but I do not understand coffee, and I most definitely do not understand tea,” he says, completely unaware of my thoughts.
I shrug.
“It tastes and smells acrid.”
“You actually tasted it?” I ask, raising my eyebrows as I bring the cup to my lips.
He grimaces. “Last night, after you went to sleep, Ruth and Rob insisted I try it.”
I snicker. “You let them pressure you into trying tea when I couldn’t even get you to drink hot chocolate?”
What a sucker.
Pestilence glowers at me.
I take another swallow of tea to hide my smile. Despite our casual conversation, the hand that holds the mug trembles.
I find you beautiful, dear Sara, so beautiful.
His words from last night surround me; I can’t just be normal around him. Ugh. I’m all wound up.
My eyes drift to the breakfast laid out for me. Between Ruth and Rob’s sickness and Pestilence’s attention, the thought of eating is twisting my stomach into knots.
I feel like I am lit on fire, like you have been called by God to raze my world.
On an impulse, I swivel to him and brush a kiss against his lips.
Pestilence’s hands move to my waist, and he reels me in, and what was meant to be a brief peck turns into a long, languid kiss.
For several seconds I give in and let myself be consumed by it. But then, somewhere along the way, I remember myself.
I break the kiss off as shame smolders low in my belly. Will it ever go away, or will I have to deal with it day after day, city after city, until all the world has burned down and only I remain?
Still staring at my lips, the horseman takes a step forward, ready to resume the kiss.
I place a hand on his chest.
He glances down at it. “Am I to believe that you no longer want my affection when not a minute ago you sought it out?”
Do I tell him the truth?
“Pestilence, I …” I can’t do this here. Not when a couple is dying in the next room over and you’re responsible. I clear my throat. “I need to go tend to Rob and Ruth.”
The horseman’s eyes drift in the direction of their room, his face pinching with strain. Without another word, he leaves the house, the sound of the closing door echoing behind long after he’s gone.
