I kept myself very busy yesterday, checking in with Alex, Miranda, and Evan, taking over a patrol for Rumael, and pushing myself at training. I hated feeling that the Apathy might still have some influence over me, but Brid assures me that I am back to myself. Orison agrees with her. He thinks that the creature must not have been using its full ability while it was trying to mislead me—to have overplayed its hand would have revealed its presence, thereby defeating the purpose.
Still, it will be some time before I forget that heavy, dragging coldness.
I spent this evening with Freya, who had Kara over for dinner. As the two of them laughed and chattered, I kept an eye on Freya. I feel sure that the vision I had of her while out on mission was all in my head, and yet it seemed so real. Is it possible that she could sense that I was in trouble? I half-hoped that she might speak of it to Kara, but their cheerful chatter never touched on anything more serious than Kara’s new shoes or Freya’s disagreement with a coworker.
But after Kara was gone, I followed Freya up the stairs, studying the warm flicker of her aura. “Freya,” I murmured.
And she paused, resting her hand on the railing at the top of the stairs, and looked back at me.
She did not see me, and a moment later she shook her head and went to get changed for bed, but she did feel something. Whatever it was, for a moment, I was real to her.
Our bond is growing stronger. While I know I should not wish for this, I cannot help but be glad. I want her to know me, if only subconsciously, if only as a voice in the back of her head. I want her to trust me, and to know that I am always there for her—and yes, there is a part of me that wants to trust and confide in her, too.