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She pulled it out and saw there were a lot more bills in it. Her stomach lurched.‘No, no, no, I am fine, I am okay.’ She wiped away a tears that didn’t exist and wasn’t happening because she was fine and okay. Her skin wasn’t crawling with insects and grimy disgusting slime. She wasn’t sick to her stomach at all. She was fine, totally absolutely normal.Her forehead clunked against the side window. Though she wished she had a pair of sunglasses, at least the coolness of it felt good against her forehead. She focused on that and swallowed down her heart.She couldn’t remember how many times she’d come home after school, how many times she’d seen the front door of her house. Yet now it seemed alien, strange and quiet, hyper idyllic. Like something out of a Norman Rockwell Painting. She’d read about him when some of her novels had made reference to him. He painted ideal perfect American home life, filled with smiling fat kids bustling around. But this was just dead silent, as if judging. She took his hand, and he felt his Gift surge deep inside him. This time, though, he felt it course down his arm, out of his hand and into hers.Jeira gasped as Aran’s Gift flooded her body, suffusing her entire being. Aran had no clue as to what was happening; whatever this was, it was new to him. Her hand gripped his tightly until the torrent ebbed.They stared into each other’s eyes for long moments; hers were a deep, melting brown that a man could gaze into for hours. He could feel her every sensation, every emotion, as if it were his own. The Gift had somehow deeply connected them both, in body, mind and soul. He felt like he had known her his whole life, and he could see that same recognition in her face.“What is this?” She asked quietly, never taking her eyes from his.“I don’t know,” Aran replied truthfully; Elaina had never taught him of this. “But I think I like it, Jeira.”She smiled, then, a ravishing beam that would do justice to any princess, and she touched his cheek..
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