"So he… attacked you?"
I slam the book shut. "Well, I didn't invite him to my bed."
A painful look deforms his face, and he conceals it with his hands. "Aurora, I—I—"
"I don't wish to speak of it," I say, surprisingly steadily. "It happened, I lived, and he did not, and that is that," I say it as if it is that simple. But it is far from it.
His hands fall from his face. "Why?"
"Why what?" I ask, shifting over to lean my temple and shoulder against the glass.
The warm, bright light illuminates his empyrean eyes, shining with a mystic blue.
"Why did you spare him? At first."
I don't answer him. Not for a long period, and he waits good-naturedly until I am ready to answer, and until I myself know the answer.
"I suppose." Creases form between my brows. "I suppose I felt that I needed to prove something to both myself and to him."
"And what is that?"
I shake my head. "No. You ask far too many questions."
I close my eyes, fully absorbing the warm beams of the sun.
