Hostage by Cheryl Headford

Author:Cheryl Headford
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Gay & Lesbian, Sword & Sorcery, Science Fiction & Fantasy, www.superiorz.club, Coming of Age, Fantasy, Teen & Young Adult, Literature & Fiction
ISBN: 9781634762649
Publisher: Harmony Ink Press
Published: 2015-09-16T22:00:00+00:00

THE NEXT morning Rowan woke early from a troubled sleep. He had a headache, though not a bad one. Other pain was more acute, but there was no pill he could take to alleviate that. He stood over the other bed and looked down. Astrin had thrown off the covers and was sprawled across the bed, his hair tossed all over the place, his lips parted. He was disheveled, sticky with sweat, and oh-so-fucking beautiful.

Rowan was so disturbed that he woke Astrin somewhat more roughly than he had to. Astrin groaned and tried to turn over, covering his head with his arm.

“Wake up, you lazy, pathetic drunk.”

“Piss off, sadist.”

Rowan smiled and poked Astrin hard in the ribs. Astrin squirmed.

“Leave me alone,” he groaned. “Can’t you see I’m dying? Let me die in peace.”

Rowan laughed out loud and poked him again.

“Come on. We have breakfast in half an hour, and you really need a shower.”

“Breakfast? Yeah, right.”

“You’ll need it if you’re going to stand up to nine hours on a train.”

Astrin groaned again. “Oh please, please kill me now.” With a huge sigh, he turned over and peered up at Rowan through bleary eyes. “Why the hell did you let me drink so much?”

“Why did I ‘let’ you? If I remember correctly, I tried to stop you, but you weren’t having any of it. You were the one who was forcing drinks down my neck. ‘Try this one, Rowan. Oh my Gods, you have to try this.’” Rowan rolled his eyes.

“So how come you’re upright and smiling this morning?”

“I’m not a lightweight like you.”

“I want to kill you.”

“You can do that after you’ve had a shower. I’d hate to be killed by a stinky, sweaty drunk.”

“Now I really want to kill you.”

“To kill me, you have to get up.”

Grumbling, Astrin sat up and scratched his head. With a huge sigh, he dragged himself out of bed. He groaned again and pressed his fingers to his temple. “I have such a headache.”

“Serves you right.”

“Some friend you are. Where’s the sympathy?”

“It got thrown out along with my back last night when I had to carry you home.”

Astrin looked at him wide-eyed. “You did not carry me home.”

“Think about it.”

Astrin frowned and stared at him, then shook his head. “I don’t remember a thing about last night… at least not about coming home.”

Rowan smiled, although inside, part of him died. Still grumbling, Astrin wandered out of the room toward the communal bathroom. Rowan sat down heavily on the bed, his hands between his knees. He could have wept, but he didn’t.

Something dug into his thigh so he put his hand into his pocket, bringing out the stone he’d picked up the night before. He stared at it. It wasn’t a stone anymore but an exquisite portrait. He swallowed, suddenly swept by an overwhelming desire to see his uncle again, to have the benefit of his guardian’s wise counsel.

For the first time since they’d set out on the journey, he regretted that he’d followed Astrin so readily into such a foolhardy venture.

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