Winter's Trial by Endymion Darren

Author:Endymion, Darren [Endymion, Darren]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Torquere Press, Inc.
Published: 2013-08-20T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 22 -- Memories and the Explosion

Austin had put his shoes on thirty minutes earlier and his socks fifteen minutes before that. He clumped to the kitchen and stared at the microwave in disbelief. Only three minutes had passed? He shuffled to his bedroom, smelling Cris' spicy scent there among his pillows and blankets, and confirmed the time. He took out his phone and looked at it, willing Cris to call. Nothing happened.

Growling, he paced to the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror. He was wearing a grey, V-necked sweater Cris had bought him that was far too tight in his opinion, but it did accent his eyes like Cris had said. Blue jeans, also new, also from Cris, his newer shoes, white socks, and a ratty old pair of underwear he had donned for spite completed the ensemble, though the latter two were not visible. Fairly normal clothes, but he felt so conspicuous and so garish that he might have been going to a dress audition for a job as a circus clown. His eyes flickered to his closely cropped red hair, thought about getting a giant red honking clown nose, and giggled. The sound was rather like a stubborn old truck cranking up a hill in the rain, and that thought made him laugh again, this time with a bray like a disabled donkey. This broke him up more, and he stood in the mirror, cackling and guffawing until his face was red and his chest was slick with sweat and his sides ached with little jabs of gentle pain.

By the time Austin had regained composure, Cris had sent a text saying he was running a few minutes late, and then one saying he was on his way, that he was sorry, but he had to stop at the store for some salt.

Austin laughed then, and looked at himself in the mirror. He could smell Cris here, all through his apartment. He thought about Cris, and realized with something like horror mixed with relief that he cared for Cris. Not his True Mate, but for Cristiano Raposo, who happened to be his True Mate. He realized that he had spent so much time wishing for his mate that sometimes Cris' personality shocked him, as if Cris were intruding on his fantasy with a reality which was perfect in its way, yet different from the make believe within Austin's head.

Cris' force of personality, the essential Cristiano, was special. He was unique.

It was absurd to think, but hadn't Austin wanted his True Mate for so long that he had made up a romanticized and generic one? In truth, he had. He had imagined an empty vessel, a person devoid of personality, because to make up quirks, to think of his True Mate's personality, was almost like a falsehood, a betrayal of who his mate would turn out to be. But at the same time, Austin had pinned all his hopes and desires on this generic mate he had made up in his head like a blank canvass, a security blanket totally devoid of color.

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