55

Stitches

That same night, Elinor tucked Cressida and Emory to sleep. As much as she wanted to keep them awake so she could watch them move, and hear them telling her their stories, she knew they needed rest the most.

The door of her bedroom creaked, she turned her head over, and there, she saw Colin, leaning against the door frame.

His long black hair is free, cascading down to his shoulder. A few locks covered his eyes. There is a sash wrapped around his waist, arrows were hooked to it.

He looked very regal in her eyes, despite the apparent dirt spread around his kilt.

"You should rest, too," he said. There was a golden glow in his face from the lamp. It made the scar on his cheek more noticeable.

Elinor wanted to trace his scar with her hand.

"I cannot sleep," she said, turning her attention back to the twins who were in deep slumber.

"May I come in?"

Elinor stopped and contemplated letting him inside. There is still this wary inside her whenever he's near.

After some awkward sile