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“…close your eyes, and count to fifty. And then when you are done, you open your eyes and come find me,” she explains, patiently.
Braxiatel blinks. That is what she calls him, Braxiatel, although he had attempted to explain to her very early on something about two names and three minds – Pandora, Braxiatel, past, present, and man – it was all very confusing and he had seemed more than ready to accept the single name, Braxiatel, when she had asked if that was quite all right.
“Do you understand, Braxiatel?” she asks when he says nothing.
“Yes,” he says. “Shall I begin?”
“And you’re quite certain you understand the game?” she asks, brows furrowing lightly as she inspects his face for any trace of anticipation, or excitement, or anything vaguely akin to playfulness. She finds none, yet, but that does not mean much. She has found that it takes time and practice and usually her own enthusiasm to get him interested in anything else than – well –her.
He nods and gives her a brief, reassuring smile. “Precisely as you have explained it.”
“Good!” she smiles in return, brushing back her hair from her face and taking his hand. “Remember, close your eyes and don’t peek until you’ve finished counting.”
He nods with almost comic solemnity before lifting his chin, closing his eyes, and beginning.
She picks a choice spot under the bed, and waits out the remaining fifty seconds. She then finds herself waiting for an additional fifteen and she is starting to worry when, at last, a crack of light appears and she can see the seeping blue of his eyes as he lifts back the covers and peers at her.
“What are you doing under there?” he asks.
“Hiding,” she supplies, her brow furrowing. She begins to crawl out and he shifts back obligingly, offering a hand to help her stand afterward. “That was the point, after all.”
“Ah,” he says slowly, understanding. “So I count, you… hide. And then I am to come find you.”
“Yes,” she says. “And then we switch places, and I count, and you hide.”
He looks intently at the bed she has just crawled out from under, and he smiles broadly, pleased. “Very well. If you should like to try it, again?”
This time, she covers her eyes and counts to fifty. She checks usual places – closets and under tables, and then under the same bed, where it turns out he has hidden. It takes her all of four minutes to find him. She cannot decide if it was an attempt on his part to be clever, or if he simply is not used to the game, yet.
“All right,” she says as he smiles, pleased that the game seems to be working out in their favor. “Now, again. You close your eyes, and I will go hide.”
This time, she goes two rooms over, and hides in a wardrobe. She waits out the remaining fifty seconds. And then she waits for nearly half an hour. By then, she has lost all suspicion that he is trying to be tricky and peeks out of the door. Sure enough, nothing. She steps out and finds him within five minutes, in the same room with the same bed as before.
“Braxiatel?” she asks.
He gives her a look that is caught between despair and relief. For a moment, he glances at the bed, then back at her with the same wide-eyed misunderstanding.
“You weren’t in the hiding spot,” he explains.
Romana decides, at that point, that the two of them have had well enough hide-and-go-seek for the day.