Rin was in the kitchen. A mug sat on the counter with the string of a tea bag over the rim. Tea could be nice. That sounded better than ice water right now. She hummed to herself, and I made myself silent as I came up behind her.
“Is there enough for two?”
Trinity startled, whirling and knocking into the mug and sending it flying off the island. The dish shattered, the sound deafening.
My Omega yelped like someone had hit her, and I was immediately looking at her feet to see if she’d been cut by the breaking pieces.
No.
She had socks on.
She ducked around me and grabbed the broom and dustpan before starting to sweep.Fast.
“Rin.”
“It’s okay,” she said. “I’ll clean it up. That wasn’t a sentimental mug or anything, right? I’m sorry.” Her words were so rushed they blended together, and I saw her hands were shaking enough that the broom was having a hard time doing what it needed to.
Taking the two steps I needed, I wrapped myself around her from behind. She stiffened, expecting the worst. I pressed my lips to her ear. “Breathe.”
She did, but it wasn’t deep enough.
“Again.”
Slowly, her trembling slowed, and her body eased into my hold. Not as pliant and melted as I liked her to be, but better.
“You’re not there,” I said quietly. “You’re here.”
“I know, but?—”
“No buts. It was an accident. And it was my fault. I shouldn’t have startled you. I’m sorry.” Her body shivered. I gently pulled the broom from her hands and lifted her onto the counter. “Stay there.”
It only took a few minutes to sweep the broken pieces and wipe the floor for splinters. I’d make a note for the cleaners to pay extra attention to the floor in here.
Then I pushed Trinity’s knees apart so I could stand between them. Her head hung low, not looking at me, not looking at anything.
“I assume at some point you broke something, and they were angry.”
“That’s putting it mildly,” she mumbled, her hands fidgeting in her lap. “I’m just…”
A low sound. She sometimes made them when she was struggling with her voice and frustrated. I hoped she knew I would wait forever for her to get where she needed. Not like I was a stranger to struggling with words.
“I’m just clumsy. I’ve always been that way. I’ll be putting something down and suddenly it’s on the floor and I don’t know how it got there. Or I trip over nothing. Knock something over even though I swore my hand was nowhere near it.” She did look up at me then, glossy tears in her eyes. “I hate it, because I don’t understand why I can’t justnot do it.”
She wasn’t finished. I felt it, and so I waited.
“And then I react like this, and?—”
The way she cut herself off wasn’t a struggle with her voice, it was her censoring herself. “What?”
Rin shook her head.
I stepped closer so I could pull her against my body, even as she sat on the counter, and kissed her cheek slowly. “Tell me.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Why?” A whisper into her neck.
“Scared.”