Side Character's Curse

15|| Remember

JIA

"Rowan?" I called, the top steps creaked under my weight. "Are you here?" These stairs are a bloody nightmare.

By the time I'd hit step fifty, all the fight had left my body– even with my dragon strength. Although it was technically not allowed, I'd unsheathed the cow-dung sword to boost my endurance. Fortunately, all the guards were busy downstairs where the main characters of today's event were, so I encountered no one.

"Myki!" I reattached the weapon to my neck and fiddled with the charm. For some reason, my heart was slamming against my ribcage and a headache started to form at the base of my skull.

The floor was bare of all furniture and had three doors pressed against a white wall. There was nothing unusual about them– dull brown with the Imperial crest seared in the centre and only a simple handle on the right side.

The middle one. The thought popped into my head as if someone had whispered it in my ear. Choose the middle one.

My fingers curled around the handle and I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth. Sweat coalesced on the inside of my palms and I fought down the swooping sensation in my stomach as I pulled it open to the balcony. "Sorry I'm late, I got caught up with something."

"I know, I saw." A shadowy figure turned and the breath caught in my throat.

It was Rowan, but it also was not. He wore a long overcoat infringed with gold and a white shirt tucked into smart trousers. His shoes were shined and his face and hair were scrubbed clean until not a hint of the rough thief was visible. A faint breeze picked up the comforting scent of mint. My headache grew, like something was trying to dislodge itself from my brain.

He drummed his fingers against the bannister of the pale balcony. "Why are you staring at me like that?"

"You look nice. Really nice." Immediately, I wanted to take the words back. Way to make things awkward, idiot.

Rowan coughed into his fist– is that a blush or just my imagination?– and gestured to one of the wooden chairs placed next to each other. "I, uh, thanks. Have a sit– I mean, have a seat. You also look nice today. I mean, not that you don't always look really nice everyday, because you do. Today is just one day you look nice out of many. And that's everyday."

"Are you okay?" I asked, lowering myself into the seat. "You look like a person with a target on their back."

"I'm fine and dandy, Mango." He clicked his tongue against his teeth and aimed finger guns at me.

"Right. I'm just going to ignore... this and carry on." I interlaced my fingers together and tipped my head back to look at the blanket of stars shimmering into existence. "So, Dreamer, what's the plan?"

He perched on the edge of his chair, as if he was preparing to take flight. The moon washed his face in a brilliant glow and caused the grey in his eyes to splinter into a hundred different shards. "I... can't tell you yet. You will find out soon and it's best if I leave the explaining to someone else. Can I ask you a personal question?"

"You can ask, but I might not answer."

"That's totally fine as well. Um... can I ask why you see the people here as only characters?"

I let out a breathy laugh, pushing the dragonfly pin deeper into my hair until it scraped against my scalp. "Whew, you're asking the deep questions here, huh?"

"Sorry!" He placed his hands up in surrender, flustered. "I– I didn't mean to pry–"

"Dreamer, what's gotten into you? I'm just joking around." A sudden throb pulsed through my forehead. "I suppose it happened in my first story which was... so long ago I can hardly recollect it."