Page 147 of The Amber Sunburst

Alexander sighs, caught. “No. ‘Minha estrela’… My star.”

“Yours.”

Alexander could take it back, but selfishly, he doesn’t want to. So he says, “Mine.”

“For as long as you’ll have me,” Kallias says and his breath against Alexander’s neck is a melody of its own.

“Eternamente, minha estrela. Forever.”

When Alexander wakes up, morning light streams through the Library’s window. He can tell by the shade of misty yellow that it’s still early, but he doesn’t try to go back to sleep. Neither does he get up.

He just stays where he is, keeping still so as not to disturb the beautiful boy in his arms. Kallias’ breath is warm against his skin where he’s curled into Alexander. He sleeps kind of like a cat, Alexander notices; if Alexander weren’t in the way, he would probably be cuddled into a tight ball. But instead his head is pressed into Alexander’s shoulder with a hand resting gently at the nape of Alexander’s neck and a leg draped casually over Alexander’s hip.

He could stay here forever, he decides as he softly, softly strokes through Kallias’ hair. He’s beginning to think that’s what his hands were made for.

Then heir alarms go off and remind him that he doesn’t have that luxury. Zeno was weirdly strict about getting up when the sun did—something about staying under the radar—and Alexander deeply begrudges him for it.

He shifts away to shut his ring off. In response, Kallias makes an unbearably adorable huff of discontent and pulls him back. Alexander smiles wider than he ever has.

“We’ve gotta get up, minha estrela,” he whispers, sliding down so their faces are level. Kallias scowls at him.

“Not a chance,” he mumbles.

Dear God, early morning Kallias may be the sweetest thing in the world. Alexander is helpless to him.

Kallias cracks an eye open in acquiescence, but still doesn’t return to himself. “Five minutes?” he asks, and Alexander has to suppress the butterflies in his stomach.

Is this how Kallias would be if he weren’t forced to build his walls up so high? Is this how he’ll end up, after enough time in California, relaxing on the shore?

“Just five,” Alexander says.

After what is definitely longer than five minutes, Alexander has to force himself to sit up, dragging Kallias with him. Kallias groans in annoyance, but Alexander can see his eyes clearing—his aloof walls resurfacing. And with the mask back on, Alexander can also see clearer what it’s hiding. Something too tender and sad for him to name.

“What’s the matter, gorgeous?”

Kallias doesn’t respond, but his brows come together like he’s weighing options, trying to decide what he wants to say. In the end he doesn’t say anything at all. He stands and reaches a hand down for Alexander.

When he takes it, Kallias drags him up and into an embrace so tight it almost feels like a goodbye.

“It’s going to be fine,” Alexander says to stop the dread creeping up on him. The sinking feeling isn’t new, he’s realizing. It’s been holding him captive for a while, bracing him for something. But now it’s screaming in his ears.

Kallias pulls back with a small, sad smile.

“Believe me, okay? It will be,” he repeats, this time with emphasis. Because it will be fine; Alexander will make it be.

“Okay,” Kallias replies.

“Here,” Alexander decides without really thinking about it as he pulls the signet ring off his pinky. “You take this and you can give it back to me on the boat. My father gave me this ring—it means everything to me—that’s how much I know that this will work out.”

“I’m not taking that, Alexander.”

“No. No, you need to understand that I’m sure,” he says, and he can imagine what his frantic energy looks like to Kallias. But he needs this reassurance. If Kallias has this ring it means that they will all make it out because they would have to.

“Keep your ring,” Kallias says, pushing his hand away.

“So you don’t think this plan is going to work?” Alexander lashes out.

“Don’t do that. That’s not fair,” Kallias argues.