One of them wasn’t people, and the other one might wish they weren’t by tomorrow. It still felt soft and real in the moment as they breathed in air that smelled of cotton candy, and the carnival’s lights flickered on in a glaze of colors.
An older couple stopped to stare at them. Ledger saw them out of the corner of his eye and braced himself. Then the woman laughed and nudged her companion in the ribs. “Young love,” she said as they moved on. “Do you remember?”
Wren pulled away. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand as he glared after them.
“They’ll die soon,” he said. “Want to know when?”
“No,” Ledger said. He grabbed Wren’s chin and pulled his head back around. “Would you give being an asshole a break and tell me what happened?”
“Call it a disciplinary,” Wren said. He ducked his chin down to give the pad of Ledger’s thumb a nip. “My work hasn’t been up to scratch.”
Ledger reluctantly took his hand back.
“Is it because of me?” he asked.
Wren shrugged. “He doesn’t like it when I want my own things,” he said. “It’s for my own good. And his.”
“I’m sorry,” Ledger said.
Wren reached out and wiped his thumb, still sticky with caramel, over Ledger’s lower lip. It was bloody when he pulled it back and sucked it clean.
“I’m not. I got what I wanted.” He shrugged one shoulder and tongued the scabbed split on his lower lip. “Besides, I heal quickly.”
Ledger drew a blank on how to respond to that. He didn’t think he was worth this sort of beating, and he was pretty sure that no one else had ever thought he was either.
It was Ledger’s turn to lean in for a kiss. He was gentler than Wren had been, careful of split lips and bruises.
“If things had been different…”
Wren snorted and reached up to grab Ledger’s chin, pinched between finger and thumb. He forced Ledger’s head back and smirked.
“It still wouldn’t mean anything,” he said. “Don’t try and pretend it would. Love is for things that can love you back. I’ve no soul, remember? I couldn’t if I wanted.”
Ledger stepped back. He studied Wren for a moment and then smiled lopsidedly. “You really don’t know how love works, do you?” he asked, but he didn’t wait for an answer. Ignoring Wren’s frown, he extended his hand. “C’mon, I owe you a date. Remember?”
The colorful lights of the carnival, strung in long, glittering streamers overhead, played on Wren’s face. He looked at Ledger’s hand and scoffed.
“What are we? Thirteen?” He grabbed Ledger’s arm and pulled in close so he could throw an arm around his waist. Ledger could smell the blood on him—a dull, sticky undertaste to the heady salty-sweetness of the carnival—as they walked down the midway.
Ledger relaxed into the moment as much as he could, even as he scanned the crowd for Hark. There was no sign of him. Barkers cozened people over to their games and rides, all clattering gears and unexpectedly old-time tinkling music. Half of Sutton took them up on it, throwing rings, shoving candy floss in their face, and squealing as they were dropped, spun, or swung around. Kids deemed too short to go on the big rides straddled painted horses while their parents waved from the sidelines.
None of them had gotten enough candy in their systems to start screaming hysterically. Yet.
“In my head, Sutton is always this macabre, cursed place,” Ledger said. “But it’s just a normal town. They’re normal people. We might not be.”
“Naw,” Wren said. He tightened his grip on Ledger’s hip and pulled him back a step. A gaggle of kids, all different shades of dirty and all with matching stuffed dogs clutched in their arms, stampeded out of a green tent and across the fairway. The woman at the donut food cart looked mildly alarmed as they all posted up in front of her, waving their cash in sticky hands. Wren leaned over and filched Ledger’s untouched fried milk from the tray. “The boss has been dying here for generations. That’s the kind of thing that gets in the groundwater. Place is cursed. They’re just too dumb to notice.”
He bit into the still-crisp sweet. Custard dripped down onto his shirt. It blended well with the bloodstains.
“I thought you didn’t like them?” Ledger said.
Wren shrugged as he chewed. “Fills a hole,” he said with his mouth full.
“I wouldn’t know,” Ledger said.
“What?” Wren said. He waved his hand at his bruised and battered face. “Look at me. You’re going to tell me no?”
He shoved the rest of the treat into his mouth in one big bite. Ledger supposed that left him with the bit Wren had rejected earlier. He pried it out of the sticky residue that had started hardening on the bottom of the tray. It melted on his tongue, a kick of salty sweetness that cut through the dull slog of the day.
