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Pushing himself up on his knees, he whispers in my ear, “We’ve always been good enough.”
My heart jumps because it’s a little too real when he says it like that.
Settling back, he draws my fingers to his lips. “I think I just needed the other half of my soul to show me a reflection of what I’d been taught to ignore. I love you, Brittny. If you are mine, I must be worthy of that. And…if you care for me as deeply as you’ve shown…please know that I am also yours. With every breath, and every note, through every moment of questionable physics. In your eyes, I have found what it means to be good enough. If you haven’t seen enough of how you look through mine yet, then I will endlessly offer you my lyrics until you can’t remember where you left your doubts.”
“Do you promise?” I straighten. “Wait. No. Sorry. I forgot. Promises are dangerous. That was human of m—”
He cuts my words off with a kiss. “I do.”
I know from my fae lessons that those two words on their own aren’t binding…but yes, they are.
Words are simple, yet powerful.
They can build up, and tear down.
The most important ones, however, will always be the ones we tell ourselves.
So we should make sure the story in our head is a good one. It should be the fanfiction of our lives, the way we would write our plot if we were in control of it.
Because…we are.
“Are you guys done snogging over there?” Zylus calls back through the woods right as everything in my jumbled mind—for a blissful moment—falls perfectly into place.
I am loved.
“Are we done?” Ollie whispers, entirely unfazed.
Easing in ways I don’t think I have ever been able to before, I touch my lips to his, and say, “Nope.”
Epilogue
~~~~~~~~~~~~
The bonds of sisterhood >> the bonds of brotherhood.
Two months later
“I told her I’d ask.” Brittny sits on my lap in Cael’s office, arms folded across her chest. “My sister has finally cleared her pet sitting schedule, so she’s coming to visit, and while Willow and Zy are letting her stay with them, she’s desperate to see Faerie. I don’t want her to go insane.”
“I understand entirely; however, it’s improper to approach me and say oh great and powerful faerie prince, grant my sister access into your realm. I don’t control whether or not humans go insane.” Cael turns a page, dips the glass tip of his quill in his jar of ruby gold ink. “Ollie should have explained this to you.”
“I tried. She claims you’re sneaky.”
“I am sneaky. But I cannot lie.”
“Don’t control can mean you haven’t at any point previously, not that you can’t.”
Cael drags his attention off the page. “It means I have not tried. Ethically, I have some reservations concerning the high likelihood something goes awry. Would you really offer your sister as a test subject to my machinations?”
Let’s be real. Alana would probably offer herself if given the chance.
Despite that belief, I keep my mouth shut and marvel at the distance between the bumps of my sunshine’s spine, trailing my finger down the perfect straight line.
She leans forward, planting her elbows on Cael’s desk and propping her chin in her hands. “Listen here, doughnut buddy, I’m absolutely certain my sister belongs here, but you tell me how she’s going to find herself a nice faerie husband unless she’s allowed to come here?”
Cael hums. “I wonder. Why don’t you tell me how you found your nice faerie husband?”
“How do we know my request right now isn’t part of her plot?”
