Emery ElwardHe didn’t turn away fast enough and caught the slow burn ofpleasure in Ezra’s expression
Emery ElwardHe didn’t turn away fast enough and caught the slow burn ofpleasure in Ezra’s expression. “Are you always going to offer to rescue me,even when you hate me?”Emery wasn’t a fighter. He still wasn’t sure why he’dstarted his first day of school in Trinity Creek by interrupting the boycalling Ezra names, pulling him away by his shirt and winding up bloodied in ascrap that had gotten him suspended. “Goddamn it,” Emery said under his breath. Then he sighed.“I don’t hate you.”“I know,” Ezra answered softly. “But it’s nice to hear.” Hestraightened up, slid his hands back into his coat pockets. He nodded indecision. “You can come and see me tomorrow. Tell me about the food.”Emery spun around, startled by the sound of Saturdaysnapping his wings. “Tomorrow?” He should have been objecting to the implicitorder in Ezra’s words, not the time. He didn’t see Ezra every day. That was toosoon. “What if I’m busy?”“Then I’ll find you.” The confidence threw Emery all over again. “Fine. I’ll eat,”he ground out. “My mother really made me sound pathetic, didn’t she? Youshouldn’t believe her. I’m fine.” “You’ve always been fine.” Ezra inclined his head in acknowledgment.“Nonetheless, I’ll see you tomorrow.”He gave Emery another small, careful smile, though one thatdidn’t reach his eyes, and then turned and began to walk toward the house. “You don’t even know where I’ll be!” Emery remembered topoint out, shouting after him. Ezra waved without looking back. The wind picked up, but hishat stayed firmly in place. The red sunlight and the dark blue sky madeeverything a shade of purple. Ezra’s shape was indistinct, black coat and hat,black shoes. He looked like a crow in a field of pale grass. An inkblot inplace of a person. A ghost. The twilight was giving Emery poetic ideas. -- source link
#r. cooper#pointless moodboards#familiar spirits