Well, okay, a little possessive jealousy. We'd agreed to try being friends, and I was interested in that pursuit, but despite everything and despite all the times people had assured me that "soulmates" didn't have to mean "lovers," part of my brain was still aghast that someone who was supposed to be my soulmate had left the party he'd been escorting me to in order to have sex with someone else. It was somewhat rude, at the very least, but I told that piece of me that Dain had been very clear that he had a well-earned sexual reputation, and I'd been pretty aggressive about acting like I wasn't interested in hearing about it.

Proximal jealousy I definitely had in spades; it looked like a hell of a time. But it had only been a week; we just didn't have any kind of relationship yet, and I didn't feel like I had much of a right to be possessive over him. Whatever the soulmate bond represented, it didn't necessitate that we fall into obsession with each other, for which I was extremely grateful. Maybe I could simply try to be happy about him finding some measure of pleasure.

The bark of the path crunched, and I cringed, not wanting to look and see Dain's expression. I didn't question knowing that it was him. My subconscious knew him intimately enough that I could identify him by the sound of his footsteps.

He sighed. "You saw."

I made a whining noise. "Well, yes," I said, sounding pained. "I didn't mean to, um, peep? I heard someone make a pain sound, all thoughts of skulls flew out of mine, and I rushed over to help."

"She... asked," Dain said, sounding ashamed, either that I'd heard or that he'd agreed to do such a thing. "For it to... hurt. For... bruises." The last word was almost whispered, heavy with unhappiness.

I relaxed away from my tension and looked over at him. "Some people like that," I offered, confused as to what was going on with him.

He didn't meet my eyes, looking away and towards the pond, his body held tight and his wing-arms folded all the way closed.

I patted the bench next to me. "Come sit," I said gently. "I'm not angry at you or anything."

Dain's eyes slid over to me, regarding me for a moment in the soft light of the lanterns before he nodded. He walked over, not with his usual confident stride, but with caution, almost like a wounded animal, and he hesitated next to the bench.

Looking at him with concern, I reached up and took his hand, tugging him downwards.

He went, with an expression like shock warring with the shame.

Rather than let go of his hand, I laced my fingers through his like we were friends and set our joined hands on my lap. Dain looked at our hands, breathing too hard, and then at me, his face tight and upset.