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He swears, drawing closer. “Thanking me while I’m this wrapped up in you and your soul is so cruel…”
“Should I do it again?”
“I am so tempted to say yes.”
“Thank you,” I whisper.
His lips graze the divot beneath mine, and my breath holds. “Do you want to give me your soul? If, for a moment, you can pretend this is all real, would you give me your soul?”
“Give my soul to you or to Pollux?”
“Yes.”
“I really shouldn’t give my soul to cult members. I don’t think that’s very wise.”
I taste the heat of his sigh on my tongue. “Your humanity frustrates me. Or, perhaps, it is the fact you have been raised so human that frustrates me. Humans are too mistrusting while the fae cannot lie. If you believed what I say I am, I could calm every worry you have as soon as I find the right words to say. It is easier to talk to you here, without all the false attitudes you present in the real world. I prefer seeing you as you are.”
“That sounds beautiful, dreamboy. Do you think I could run away with you to Faerie? Would your prince fund my playground? Could someone talk to Zahra and let her know her brain isn’t broken and she’s okay?”
“Okay is a pitiful descriptor. Words like fine, okay, and all right imply the lowest level of adequacy. They mean nothing. If this Zahra is your friend, she deserves better than okay.”
Deflating, I rest my head against his shoulder. “Yeah…” I lift his hand in mine, play with the darkness on his fingers. “You want to know something crazy?”
“Always.”
“For several, breathless moments, I hoped I might hear a faerie respond in those woods tonight. I want a beautiful little world that makes sense. I want the care I felt at movie night to be something safe and real. Heck, clearly I even want a cute monster boyfriend to talk to me in my dreams.”
“Husband,” he corrects.
I laugh. “Right. Husband. Goodness, we’re moving so fast.”
He mumbles, “That is what I thought. I’m beginning to think you aren’t entirely aware of some human customs, and I’m not certain what to do about it, because I know I’m very unfamiliar myself, but I have checked my sources. When you spend so much time in the trenches of the subconscious…things get…weird.”
“I’d imagine so.” I tilt my head to look at his profile.
He catches my eye once he pulls himself from calculations I can’t begin to decipher, even if we are in my own mind. He murmurs, “What is it?”
“Nothing.” I lace my fingers around his talons. “I’m glad you came to visit me again. It’s stupid. Especially given the cult vibes.”
I feel him sigh as he squeezes my hand.
Giggling, I continue, “But I kinda like being around you. And Meda. But obviously Meda. Everyone else, too. I felt it at dinner that one night, and then again at Willow’s. You’re surrounded by something so warm.”
“Am I?”
“Yeah.” I huff. “I just hope it’s love and not, like, you know, goat blood or something.”
He exhales a laugh. “I think it’s just the blessing of people who care about me, regardless of the things that make it difficult.”
Silence broken by the sound of the waves sweeps in to caress my skin. Being cared for. Regardless of anything that makes it difficult.
What a concept.
“Hey,” I whisper.
“Yes?”
“Your poor daughter doesn’t know about holidays.”
