They reached the car, and with a strange mix of exhaustion and reluctant relief, she realized his teasing had sanded off the edges of whatever the fuck had happened in that alley.
“Keys?” The car unlocked with a quiet click as they neared. “Convenient,” he noted. “Do you think you can stand?”
The question should have made her hissy, but it was a valid one, all things considered. “Yeah.”
He let her down, keeping his hands close in case she swayed, then opened the door for her. Which is when she realized he had opened the passenger side.
“You’re in no state for driving in general, let alone a three-hour drive over a pass, with snow on the ground and possibly blackice,” he explained, then rolled his eyes, probably taking in her expression. “I wasn’t in your head. It was right on your face. Also, common sense much?”
“Whatever,” she muttered.
“Whatever,” he repeated, signaling her to get in. “I’ll drive you home.”
She should have said no. She wanted to say no. But she also wanted to go home and try to put what happened in order. And yes, she could have driven, but she’d lived in the area her whole life and knew the road conditions. In the end, he made her capitulate by saying, “Please, Daphne. Let me drive you home safely. You already gave me a heart attack today. I don’t need any more.”
~*~
The night outside was mellow and piercing, sweet and unforgiving all at once, like first snow on an open grave. Daphne didn’t say much. Her jaw was tight, eyes forward, body coiled like she was still waiting for the next hit to come.
Hunter didn’t need to read her mind to know she had spiraled and maybe still was, but he did anyway, just skimming the surface. Mostly, he found confusion. Those words,you make everything so fucking difficult, played on repeat in her skull, tightening, looping, gripping her from the inside out. Obsessing her because they were tied to nothing. No memory, just words that terrified her for no apparent reason at all. Only to give a break, a breathing moment to relax those shoulders and take in a full breath, he asked, “Got all your shopping done?”
She blinked like she was waking up. “Uh?”
He shrugged, eyes still on the road. “Bags. Ribbons. Festive spirit. Holiday debt. You got it all covered?”
It worked–barely, but still. She snorted, just once, brittle around the edges. And then, because of course she would go straight to the question he didn’t want to answer, she said, “How did you happen to be in that alley? At the perfect moment?”
He sighed. “Fate?” he offered. “Karma?”
Her chuckle defined bitterness. “More bullshit, I see. I don’t even know why I bother asking.”
And there it was again, that feeling like he was bleeding inside his own damn skin. He didn’t even have a skin, technically. Maybe he should just stay fog and be done with all this mess.
He wanted to tell her everything. He also couldn’t tell her anything.
Because of regulations and stuff.
And because if she knew what he really was, what he’d been sent for, it would unravel everything. She had to deal with whatever made her a too powerful lucid dreamer all by herself, or there was no fixing it at all, and the Dreamverse was not down with the option.
Apparently, the only way forward was through a minefield of shit.
Fine.
He would juggle some of it and see what fell out. “Look,” he said carefully, “I’ve never been in your head.”
She scoffed, tossed her head back against the seat, and closed her eyes like she couldn’t even stand to look at him. Which was fair, but also, he kind of saved her? He got no redeeming points for that?
Fine.
“For real,” he said. “I could, but I never did. There are... layers to thoughts and emotions. I only ever skimmed the surface.”
“Why?” Her voice was quiet but loaded. “Why on earth would you do that?”
He gripped the steering wheel. “Because after the first time I stepped into your library, I found it very hard to stay away from you.”
She turned her head, eyes opening. “It’s a public library. Not mine.”
“Might as well be, the way you run it.”
