Page 82 of Fallacies

I shouldn’t have pushed him to decide because what if he isn’t ready yet but gives an answer anyway? What if he chooses me, all of me, and regrets it?

Or worse.

What if he doesn’t choose me at all?

Callan moves to pull his hand away, but mine darts up to keep it in place.

“Please,” the word spills out of me.

Callan’s brows furrow, a dark lock of hair falling over his forehead when he dips his chin to get a better look at me. “Please, what?”

I don’t even know. I’m unsure of what exactly I’m asking for. All I know is that the thought of him walking away, leaving the skin he’s touching cold, makes me want to cry.

“Don’t…let this change things,” I force out.

“Lucina, it’s changed everything⁠—”

“But not this.” I press his hand further into my cheek, my fingers squeezing his. “Please don’t let it change this.”

“Why do you think I came in here?” he asks. “I’ve spent the last six hours in that chair, punishing myself for thinking, even for a moment, that maybe…” his words trail off, his demeanor shifting into something distant and…unsure.

A lump forms in my throat, panic rising in my chest. “Maybe what?”

A muscle in his jaw twitches. “Maybe there’s a whole side of you that I do not know.”

My mouth pops open in shock, a whole heartbeat passing between us before I shake my head, refusing the idea. “There isn’t.”

His shoulders sag, something like remorse curving his lips into a frown. “I’m sorry, Lucina.” His hand falls from my face. Too quick for me to catch it. “I’m trying to process everything, and I’m trying to do it honestly, but⁠—”

“That’s ridiculous.” The words burst from my mouth.

Callan blinks back at me. “What?”

Before I can talk myself out of it, I surge up on my toes and kiss him.

It isn’t a hard kiss, but it isn’t soft either. It’s a firm press of my lips into his. A reminder of all the other times we’ve been this close. All the other times we’ve ignored the weight of the world even as it presses down on our shoulders—nothing between us except a steady hum of electricity. A rope tying me to him.

That’s where our love lies, where it always has been, even before we understood what it was.

I pull back, just far enough to look at him, but I keep my palms firmly pressed into the sides of his face. “Callan, it’s me. Still me. And I love you with all my heart. I’m sorry I kept this from you; that wasn’t fair, but please, don’t let it change who I am to you.”

He watches me for a moment. Frozen. The smooth lines of his perfect face tense in thought.

Remember me, I quietly beg, hoping he’ll think of the night he took me to the creek. When I was supposed to be watching the stars, but I was mesmerized by him, lost in a world where nothing else mattered. He showed me that world, and I want him to remember that it still exists. It doesn’t have to change.

I’ve never let anyone know me the way Callan knows me, and dark as my father’s magic is, I am not my demons, and I deserve to be loved despite them. I won’t accept anything less, and he wouldn’t want me to either.

Slowly, his expression shifts—from one of uncertainty to one of recognition. His hands slide up my waist, grip tightening to pull me closer.

Callan’s stare falls to my lips. “You love me?”

I nod, heart thrashing in my chest.

He holds my gaze as he lifts me off the ground, carefully planting me on the desk. “You swear it?”

I nod again.

“It is you,” Callan whispers. “It’s always been you.”