Page 64 of Dragon’s Ending

He put the sheet down on the table, and looked somewhat helplessly at the mess of papers on the floor.

“No,” I said firmly. “Boyfriend beats historian at this time of night. Leave them.”

The dawning delight on his face was almost enough to stop me freezing to death. And later, when we held one another under the covers—to which I’d added two very thick blankets—warmth filled me that had nothing to do with the temperature of the house.

Chapter Twenty-six

DOMINIC

I came awake slowly, aware of Ben’s warmth along my side. He was still fast asleep, sprawled on his front with one arm trapped beneath the pillow and his hair sticking up in approximately six different directions.

People didn’t normally become more attractive after hypothermia and three hours’ sleep, but somehow Ben had managed it. Maybe he felt me watching, because he made a soft sound and moved closer, pressing tight against me.

I couldn’t resist any longer, and kissed his temple. His eyes opened almost immediately, and for a second he simply looked at me, sleep-blurred and soft. Then memory returned all at once, visible in the slight tightening around his eyes. It didn’t look like pity, thank God, but it did look like concern. I couldn’t bear that.

“So,” I said before he could speak, “good news. We survived near-drowning by Welsh weather.”

To my relief, he lost that look and his mouth twitched.

“Barely,” he muttered, voice rough with sleep.

“You know, we may need to reconsider our life choices. We seem to spend an alarming amount of time naked and freezing.”

That got an actual laugh out of him, quiet and warm against the pillow. And God, the relief of hearing it made it easier to breathe. I’d lost control, yet he was still here.

Ben reached for me, his hand settling warm against the back of my neck as he pulled me down into a kiss. And then nothing else mattered.

BEN

I’d reluctantly left Dominic’s bed, finally managing to convince us both that I really needed some clean, dry clothes. Last night’s were still in a soggy pile on the bathroom floor, so I borrowed his robe to go down to my room.

“Save time in future and bring some more back with you,” he said, standing there unconcernedly naked and leaning in to kiss me.

I wasn’t a prude, by any stretch of the imagination, but I’d never been the kind of person to walk around naked. I was very glad Dominic was, because the view was spectacular, and I also found myself reconsidering my previous life choices. When I was with Dominic, it felt as if I were freer, somehow. Which was ridiculous, because I’d never felt particularly constrained before. But maybe I had been, without knowing it.

In my room, I dug out the duffle bag I’d brought with me, and packed a couple of days’ worth of clothes. Then I thought about the last few days, and I added another couple of changes to cover any more unforeseen outdoor adventures. At least today was bright and sunny, small white clouds chasing through the blue sky as if it were spring rather than autumn.

Boyfriend, he’d said. I’d been so swept up in the joy of being with him that I hadn’t really thought about identifying what this was between us. I’d just known it was important and good. But hearing Dominic call me his boyfriend had made me ridiculously happy.

I was digging out another jumper from the wardrobe when a folded piece of paper caught my eye. Of course, those drawings I’d found on my first day here. Now that I knew Dominic, I wanted to look at them again, if only to tease him for his lack of artistic ability.

The first one I drew out was… Well, I still couldn’t tell what that blob was supposed to be. The only clue was the line sticking out of the front. A unicorn? Rhinoceros? Abstract art?

But when I unfolded the next sheet of paper, my heart squeezed so tightly I thought it might stop beating entirely. I was never telling him about these drawings.

In bright purple crayon, three stick figures were drawn, the shortest one holding the hands of the two on either side. Two of them had black crayon hair, and the other’s hair was long and yellow. All three were smiling, and underneath in a very shaky hand was written Mummy, Daddy and Me.

Oh God, I was going to cry. I folded it up tight and shoved it right to the back of the shelf, where hopefully no one would find it for another century or two. To think of little Dominic, with no idea of what life held for him, happily labouring over this. To think there’d been a time when he’d held his father’s hand…

I zipped my bag shut, drew a deep breath, and headed back up to Dominic’s room. I mustn’t let him suspect anything. I didn’t pity him—I was in awe at the way he’d survived. I wasn’t at all sure I would have in his place. But there was this little part of me that hurt so badly for the boy he’d been, and I was certain he’d hate it if he knew.

I paused outside his door long enough to get my expression under control, then knocked lightly against the wood before pushing it open.

Dominic was back in bed beneath approximately every blanket in the house, sprawled diagonally across the mattress with typical dragon territorial instincts. He looked up from his phone as I walked in.

“There you are,” he said. “I was beginning to think you’d fallen down the stairs.”

“Yet you didn’t come rushing to my aid?” I asked, dropping my bag beside the wardrobe.