Heirs of the Gods

Ch 44: The beauty of fury

Ella started out her day deciding to avoid Aedion at all costs.

There was no other way to frame it; she couldn't lie to herself when she decided to skip her morning training and spent her day mixing around her schedule so as to completely avoid crossing paths with him. She'd gone as far as to do her daily work and leave the files with a maid to give to him later, not even wanting to risk delivering them herself.

There was no point in cooking up some fanciful excuse, Ella was well past that point. She was avoiding him, plain and simple. She'd gotten much too close. Too comfortable. And now--short of running for the hills--the only solution was to take some distance. At least until she sorted herself out.

Distance, that's what she needed. Blissful distance and control. And then, things would go back to the way they were before. Neat, precise, predictable, just the way she liked it.

Then why did she feel so horribly?

It was the reasonable thing to do, yet she couldn't shake the ache in her chest, the uncomfortable twist in her stomach that had her downright nauseous.

She missed him.

Two days. Two paltry little days and she was missing Aedion. She hated it. Hated him even more for making her miss him. Hated herself.

How could it be that she'd allowed herself to grow so accustomed to Aedion's presence that now, she missed him? It was ridiculous. He'd wormed his way into her life, fitting himself into every little cranny, until he'd forced Ella to feel comfortable with him.

And to make matters worse, now she had to completely rearrange her schedule for him. Well, to avoid him, which was all his fault as well, in Ella's opinion. If there was one thing Ella hated, it was disarray. Her carefully constructed life in Gerrthea, all turned upside down--literally--due to some lack of self-control on her part.

That was the worst part; these emotions she couldn't control. Swelling in her chest, fogging her mind, stealing her peace.

As the day wore on, these emotions, this irritability, melted into misery. An aching knot in her throat, a twist in her gut, a hollowness in her chest. It festered, like rotting fruit in the heavy sun, and by nightfall, it had transformed into ugly, sweltering fury.

By the time she finally stormed into the training room, her frustration had grown into something of legendary proportions. Fuming, she wrapped her hands, practically breathing fire, desperate for some release.

Punch after kick after punch, the only sound in the dim room was the smack of leather and Ella's grumblings.

"Did the punching bag spit in your morning porridge? Such aggressiveness."

Ella stopped mid punch and whipped her head towards the door. Aedion stood there, arms crossed over his chest. Despite the smirk on his face, he was tense like a trap. It was imperceptible, but Ella knew all the same.

Gritting her teeth, she turned back towards the punching bag, deciding to ignore him. Her fists only landed with more force.

"Is there a reason you've missed morning practices two days in a row? Too special to come to your sessions now?" He was closer now, standing near the bag.

Silence. Absolute silence. Ella didn't even look at him.

"You're going to take it a step further and completely ignore me even when I'm standing next to you?" His tone had taken a sharp edge. She only kept on punching.

With a growl of frustration, Aedion stood in front of the bag and stopped it mid-swing with his hands. He didn't even seem to mind when her fist harshly landed against it.