New Players In The Pattern

[Ashavari]

Aria never came back to collect the journals. By now Asha had finished digitising them, and curiosity had spurred her to read them cover to cover, fascinated by the world she uncovered -- enough that she had already begun poring over them a second time. This afternoon she'd retreated to the solitary peace of her bed, curled with book and blanket and a pillow squashed under her chest. When El was out she often tried to avoid Damien, not through any particular dislike on her part (though she was keenly aware of Elias's feelings), but because of the way he made her both uncomfortable and fluttery. The smooth velvet of his voice had a way of twining its way through her head. It didn't even matter what he said; her cheeks felt a constant burn when he was around.

She'd drowsed off at some point during her reading, face mashed against the crook of her arm, but woke up to the buzz of her wallet. The room was awash with darkness but for the glow of the message. Asha groaned, slicking the tangle of hair from her face and blinking back grogginess. It was Elias. She could almost feel the growl of the words, like the frustration seeped through the ether.

We WILL find a way.

Though they hadn't. He was used to her eternal optimism by now though.