Amon knelt in front of me, taking a new tissue to dab at my sticky cheeks, and sighed. “I have found over the centuries that my heart is of very little use to me.”
He trailed the tip of his finger over the curve of my cheek and warmth began to seep into my skin. For a brief moment, I allowed myself to enjoy his gentle touch, but then I froze, and realized he had, too.
His hand dropped to his side and I sensed that he was as surprised by his gesture as I had been. He was trouble. He was my enemy. Wasn’t he? One thing was certain, though: he made me…feel. And I wasn’t comfortable with that.
Amon was charming enough on his own, but I sensed there was more than just me being physically attracted to him. I’d never been affected by a boy like this before, and the sensation was disturbing. Not in a creepy, horror-show kind of way, but the kind of disturbing that left me feeling unanchored. He had uprooted me from a very comfortable life and was holding my fragile frame in the palm of his hand.
Still, as I studied his handsome face, I recognized that part of me, a part that I didn’t want to claim or acknowledge, longed for the warmth his touch brought. That even if I was uncomfortable with the emotions he evoked, I’d never felt more alive. More like a real girl and less like the porcelain doll my parents had molded me into.
Amon seemed to have the ability to both cause confusion and chase it away. Being with him was exhilarating and frightening, and at the same time that it gave me a sense of power, it left me utterly weak. Overall, I felt unhinged and jittery, with a side dish of guilt.“I don’t like this power you have over me,” I said quietly. “It makes me feel not quite like myself. Like I have no control over my body.”
“I am sorry for this. Again, I do not wish to exercise this power, but I cannot continue on my path without you. I need you. You have no idea how desperately.” He took my hands, rubbing his thumbs over my knuckles. “Lily, please know that I do not wish to make you sad or cause you harm. Can you at least believe that?” he asked.
For a long moment I looked into his hazel eyes. Amon was a lot of things, and there were many parts of him I didn’t understand at all, but I somehow knew he wasn’t a liar. I could sense it. “Yes,” I answered grudgingly. “I believe you.”
“Good.” Amon nodded. “Now, what is cancer?”
“It’s a disease of the cells. How do you not know this?”
He sighed. “You have so many questions.”
I closed my mouth and sat back, turning my head and shrugging.
“Why do you do this?” Amon asked.
“Do what?”
“Retreat inside yourself?”
“I don’t understand what you mean.”
He studied my face and said finally, “I did not mean to insult you. Your questions are welcome. Perhaps I can answer yours and ask for some answers in return?”
Hesitantly, I nodded.
“First, there are many things I do not understand about your world, but I do know that my body is not diseased.”
I started laughing and soon began to cry, hiccupping between sobs. I had thoroughly lost it. Uncontrollable giddiness overwhelmed me; I felt like I hadn’t slept in a week. When I grabbed a second and then a third tissue, he said, “Lily, take my hand.”
Eyeing his open palm suspiciously, I sniffled loudly.
“Please, Lily. I can offer you peace.”
Sensing that it wasn’t a command this time and realizing that it didn’t hurt to disobey, I let his hand envelop mine.
“Draw upon my energy,” he said. “Try to find balance.”
I took a deep breath in an attempt to center myself and felt something shift between the two of us. It was as if the tugging sensation was reversed and warm sunlight trickled slowly into me. It calmed and relaxed me in such a way that my confusion and anger became less important. I still remembered that I was mad, but it seemed distant, buried, like I had to reach deep within myself and work to pull it to the surface.