The City Of Death

Chapter Twenty-One- Atlas

"'By the sun'?" I ask with a laugh. "You've either been spending too much time with Israel or Gemma." Macy is still clinging to me, breathless, her face flushed from the dancing and the heat of the fire. She's even more beautiful like this, starstruck and speechless. Part of me wants to keep her in my arms like this and never let her go. The other part of me knows that's a little too forward when I haven't said anything about my growing attraction to her, and why, thus far, I haven't acted on it. 

There's still someone else on my mind. Someone who hasn't left my thoughts for years. But the more time I spend with Macy, the more she banishes the someone else from my mind, and I'm still unsure how to deal with that. She opens her mouth slightly to speak, but no words form on her tongue. I lean down slightly to speak in her ear. 

"Or, perhaps, you've found the entity that calls to you," I suggest. She shivers. By the stars, she shivers when I whisper in her ear. This woman is going to be the death of me, and she doesn't even know it. She has no idea what she does to me. 

"I have always liked the sun," she responds, finally unwrapping her arms from around my neck and taking a step back. "But you didn't answer me. Where did you learn to dance like that?" 

"Oh, that? Annalise, Israel, and Gemma all taught me. Now, where they learned to dance, I haven't a clue," I explain, and she looks over at Israel. Just then, her stomach growls, and her face flushes deeper in her embarrassment. She needn't be ashamed. Dancing takes a lot out of a person, especially someone who hasn't danced this much before. I put my hand on the small of her back and lead her away from the fire, taking her to where Annalise left some food for people to snack on. 

"If that's true, then it's too bad I won't be able to see him dance," she says as she grabs a handful of raspberries, her gaze still on Israel. 

"What makes you think that?" I ask as I grab my own snack. It's going to be a long night for everyone, full of music and dancing. Might as well grab something to eat while I have a chance. 

"Well, if he goes out to dance, who's going to provide the music? I just feel bad for Annalise. She seems like a woman who secretly likes to dance. She won't even get to dance with her husband," Macy responds in between raspberries. I look back over at Israel, who has traded his violin for his guitar and is playing a slower melody while Rosalie experiments with her mother's bells. I suppose they were similar to her drum. Sort of. Still, though, she figures it out quickly. I'd expect no less of her. 

"I don't see why he can't do both," I say, and Macy raises an eyebrow. "Who says he can't dance and play at the same time?" 

"I'll believe that when I see it," she argues, and I smile playfully. She's going to regret saying that. I tell her I'll be back, and I leave her to her raspberries as I make my way to where Israel and Rosalie are playing. I'm not sure where Annalise is, but knowing her, she'll be back at any time. She doesn't like to be far when her family has their instruments. Israel's music does something to her. Many times after a night of music Rosalie will have a sleepover in my tent, and I'll spend my night covering her ears so she doesn't hear the noises coming from the next tent. 

When Rosalie notices my presence, she starts giggling and shows off her bells, losing the beat for a second. She quickly ignores me as she gets herself back into the music. Very little can distract her from music, I've learned that much. Even playing with puddles sounds mediocre to her compared to performing with her father. Speaking of. When he notices me, he gives me a knowing grin, and I ask what's on his mind. 

"Oh, nothing. Just wondering when you're going to ask your little lady to dance," he says, and I raise an eyebrow. 

"What are you talking about? I already have."