If after all of this, we end up apart, I refuse to forget his face.
Suddenly, he cracks an eye open and breaks into a slow grin upon seeing me.
“I must be dreaming. Are you acuddler?” he asks with a playful lilt in his raspy, sleepy voice.
Just when I thought I couldn’t fall more for this man, he has to sport a voice likethatat this time of day? I knew I was doomed from the very start, but damn. Again, I say: I’m doomed.
I must be blushing because his grin grows wider.
“Good morning, little angel.”
He plants a kiss on my nose. Mynose.
“Good morning,sunshine.”
He lets out a yawn and says, “You didn’t sleep at all, did you?”
“Of course not. One of us should be awake at all times anyway.”
“Once a Watcher, always a Watcher, I suppose, huh?”
I break into a grin against my better judgment. As I peer into his eyes and remember all the things we did last night, my cheeks grow warm. Maybe now that we’ve slept together, he’ll move on. Maybe that’s all he really wanted. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m on cloud nine.”
A sense of relief spreads across my chest. I wish it were easier to believe him. It’s difficult to get past my reservations about us—our conflicting dynamics.
His inner light rivals my inner darkness. He’s warm, and I’m cold. He’s inviting, and I’m aloof. He thrives as the center of attention, and I’m perfectly content remaining in the background.
It’s tremendously challenging to comprehend how the sun could be drawn to the night sky.
However, I’m beginning to understand. Slowly but surely, the walls I’ve built around my mind are crumbling in his presence.
Terrifying, isn’t it? How someone can slip into your heart and steal it without permission. How, one day, you can go from not caring about what the future holds to being riddled with anxiety about it all. Because suddenly, your heart isn’t your own anymore. It’s theirs. And for the first time in what feels like forever, you give yourself permission tolook forwardto the days that lie ahead.
I can’t quite articulate my thoughts into a sentence of consonants that will make sense, so I resign and simply respond with, “I echo you, love. Words truly can’t describe this feeling.”
“Well, what shall we do today, beautiful? I thought maybe we could go feed some ducks, but I’ve seen that go south before anddecided I didn’t want to risk it.” He furrows his brows, getting lost in thought. “Should we go on a hike?”
No. Never again.
“‘Never again?’” he repeats, quirking an eyebrow.
Again, I’m at a loss for words, so I simply nod quickly, hoping he will drop it.
“Cool. No hikes.”
His eyes slip away from mine, and he repositions his body so he’s lying on his back. After spending a couple of minutes staring at the ceiling, he breaks the silence.
“I’ve got to be honest. I’ve really missed it here. I love the air down here. I love being surrounded by people who live simple lives. But you know what else I’ve missed lately?” He spins toward me slowly, fashioning a serious expression I don’t often see him use. “Your midnight-blue wings. It’s fuckingkillingme not knowing what happened to them. Will you tell me?”
I sit up, wrapping the blanket around me and gazing outside, focusing on the light snowflakes falling just beyond the window’s reach. A tremor passes through my body, and suddenly, my chest feels heavy—like it could collapse if I don’t handle this delicately enough.
I didn’t realize the absence of my wings impacted him this much. Truthfully, I’ve avoided thinking about them for the past couple of days. If I don’t avoid it, the grief settles in and makes itself too comfortable for my liking. I don’t know if I’m ready to tell him everything, but when will I be?
“How about we go on a walk?” I offer, still fixing my gaze on the falling snow and the icicles lining the roof pane.
The bed moves, then I feel his thigh resting against my own. He wraps his arm around my neck, then kisses my head.
