“She’s alive… Can you tell me what happened? The extent of your injuries are very severe, especially on your right side.” Dr. Thyson seemed surprised for a mere second before a troubled look came across his face. “Just tell me if she’s dead or not.” Jack rasps out, wincing when his grimace tugged at the burnt skin on his neck.ĭr. And it wasn’t like he loved his mother too dearly or anything, but, he had a feeling her thing happening and his thing happening was no mere unhappy coincidence. And it probably did, and Jack should probably worry about himself and his recovery first. “How about we worry about you first?” He suggests like it made all the sense in the world. “How’s my mom?” His voice is gangly and hoarse, probably from all the screaming he’d done when the bracelet thing melted his hand.ĭespite his (probably unintelligible) question, Dr. It takes Jack a moment to find his voice but eventually he speaks. Thyson only looks on with his doctorly smile, detached but patient, as he waits for an answer. Then, Omi blinked and Chase was gone he waited for no goodbyes.EJack stares at his face, into his eyes, just trying to find a glimmer of recognition for seeing him for nearly a whole year.įorget jumbling his speech while speaking, his words were jumbled in his head.īut Dr. Omi shuddered under the conviction behind that statement. “And you passed,” closer still, and Omi couldn’t lean away much further without falling on his butt. The eyes crinkled in a delighted, cocky smile at Omi’s lack of a rebuttal.
Amber eyes burned with an emotion Omi couldn’t place, stared at Omi in pensive concentration, gazed at him with contemplative mirth and calculating plans. The words he could not muster fell flat against his attempts, and Chase drew even closer. Omi’s mouth hung open, but all that came out was a wavering voice.
Omi felt Chase’s words sink in deeper, etching into his skin, leaving the message that Omi had been suspecting for a while now: I have big plans for you, little one, and they will come to fruition.Ĭhase’s words commanded an answer, like a sharp blade held to his throat. “ You were the one I was testing.” Chase’s breath grazed against Omi’s cheek, inky hair falling around the young monk. Omi stood his ground, only leaning back slightly because, if he didn’t, their faces would likely touch. Something told Omi he should step back, but his pride wouldn’t let him run away. The lingering scent of Lao Mang Lone soup assaulted Omi’s senses, rich and oily and herby, with a savory smell Omi didn’t recognize. Their faces were so close that Omi could feel Chase’s breath on his face when he exhaled.
Chase loomed over Omi with his height, hunched over to look Omi in the eye.
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