Hunter kissed me quiet, deep and thorough. “Kris,” he said when he pulled back. “You’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met. No matter what happens, I’ll never forget you.”
“And tonight,” Eli added, “you trusted us with everything. Your first time, your fears, your terrible boy band references.”
“They're not terrible! *NSYNC was iconic!”
“See?” Eli grinned. “How could we not love someone who defends *NSYNC in 2025?”
6:15. Eight minutes until sunrise.
The light was changing now, that deep gold that meant the sun was close to the horizon. I could see it through Hunter's bedroom window, the sky transforming from night to day, indifferent to whether I'd survive the transition.
“Hold me. Both of you. Just in case.”
They pressed close, Hunter in front, Eli behind, their arms overlapping around me. I memorized the feeling of Hunter's chest hair against my chest, Eli's breath on my neck, the weight of their arms, the warmth of living bodies.
Living bodies. That's what they were. And I was... what? Borrowed flesh? A temporary miracle?
I tried to memorize everything. The way Hunter smelled like coffee and sex. The way Eli's callused fingers felt against my skin, a working man's hands despite his mystical profession. The sound of their breathing, slightly out of sync, creating a rhythm that felt like home.
“I want you to know,” Hunter whispered against my collarbone, “that moment in the shower? When you figured out the translucent thing? That was the hottest thing I've ever experienced. I'm going to remember that forever.”
“The way you glowed when you came,” Eli added softly. “Like you were made of starlight. I've seen a lot of supernatural phenomena, Kris, but nothing as beautiful as you.”
Their words felt like gifts. Like they were giving me things to hold onto if I faded, memories to carry into whatever came next.
6:18. Five minutes.
I could feel something changing. Not fading—not yet—but a pulling sensation, like something was trying to drag me back to wherever ghosts belonged.
“Do you feel that?” I asked, my voice smaller than I wanted it to be.
“Feel what?” Hunter's arms tightened.
“Like I'm being pulled somewhere. Like there's a hook in my chest and something's tugging on the line.”
Eli's hand pressed over my heart. “Your energy is fluctuating,” he said, his medium senses reading things I couldn't. “But it's not weakening. If anything, it's... consolidating. Concentrating.”
“Is that good or bad?”
“I don't know.”
6:20. Three minutes.
The pulling sensation was stronger now. I thought about my first death—the car accident, the way it had been instant. One moment I was singing along to the radio, planning my future,thinking about coming out to my parents after graduation. The next moment, nothing.
Would this be like that? Instant dissolution? Or would I feel myself scatter, my consciousness spreading thin until there was nothing left to think with?
“I'm scared,” I admitted.
“I know,” Hunter said. “I'm scared too.”
“If I do fade—”
“Stop,” Eli said roughly. “Stop talking like you're leaving.”
“I'm just being realistic.”
“No. You're staying. We're manifesting it or whatever. You're staying.”
