He gave a single nod. “Why didn’t you?”
“Because I thought you’d leave.”
His gaze finally lifted, pinning me in place. “And you don’t want me to leave because?”
My chest constricted as if he’d reached inside and squeezed. Why didn’t I want him to leave? I had no sensible reason; only the restlessness when he was gone and the reckless, electric firework inside me whenever he was near.
I cleared my throat, scrambling for a safer answer. “Because it’d be a shame since you make nicer meals than I do. Why would I want to lose an asset?”
That earned me a chuckle from him, loosening the knot in my chest. I let the air go slowly, trying not to show how much that sound had steadied me.
“Also,” I pressed on, “I have four questions of the day. I haven’t asked you any since you started avoiding me four days ago.”
“I had my reasons.”
My curiosity took root. “You were avoiding me for what reasons?”
Thrax watched me for a long moment, before diverting. “What is your first question?”
I pushed. “That is my first question.”
He closed his eyes, sighed, then opened them again. “I wanted to give you space,” he confessed.
I frowned, disbelief twisting through me.For what?“That’s a lie. If you wanted to give me space, you’d have packed your things out as well. You have plenty of places you could stay.”
He nodded slowly, conceding the point. “I know that.” His gaze held mine. “Why do you think I always come back here?”
I blinked, words failing me. But I replied with a slow shake of my head. “I can’t guess.”
“Life,” he answered simply. “There’s life here compared to other places I’ve been.”
The way he said it made the hairs on my arms rise. “Would you mind elaborating—”
“Second question.”
“Would you mind elaborating?” I hit him with the same question stubbornly.
Thrax’s stare was heavy, the dark pool in his eyes drawing me in. Finally, he sighed. “I’m familiar with what warmth feels like. But here has a different kind of warmth.” He paused. “Do you know why?”
My throat tightened. “Because I’m here?”
A small smile tugged at his lips. “Smart.”
The air between us shifted, and my lips parted before I could stop myself. “Are you saying you’ve—”
“Yes, Sanora.” His voice was flat and emotionless. “I’ve never lived with anyone before.”
The admission hit harder than I expected. What did I think? That he’d blended easily into mortal lives across centuries? That he’d ever risked staying long enough for someone to notice he wasn’t ageing like them? Of course not. He would’ve been exposed and probably used for displays and shit. Humankind wasn’t kind.
“It felt lonely here.” The words slipped through the cracks of my restraint as I stared at my hands on the counter. “It still feels lonely whenever you go out.” My breath caught, but I forced the rest out. “I was always waiting for you to show up when I went for my evening walks.”
“I always showed up.”
I looked up. “Seriously?”
He pushed the nearly empty plates aside and leaned forward, resting his hands on the counter. His face was suddenly closer—close enough that I could see the flecks of shadow in his irises, close enough to have my heart racing. And then he started naming the places I’d gone, the streets I’d walked, the corners where I’d waited, hoping he’d pop up. Each detail rolled off his tongue like he’d memorised them for the purpose of revisiting them in his mind.
My lips were parted in shock by the time he stopped talking, dumbfounded that this man had stalked me without me knowing, while I’d been disappointed he didn’t think of me as much as I did of him to come find me like he usually did.
