He stood up, the snow falling from him like old weight.
No more orbiting. No more bullshit. He would go to her, and he would be worthy.
Even if it ended him.
He walked to her front door, sat on the hard ground, rested his back against the wall of her house, and waited. Waited until the sky, heavy with clouds, brightened up. The sun wouldn’t come out today, and it was okay; he didn’t need it. He had it inside of him, along with all that mushy stuff that suddenly made a hell of a lot of sense.
Finally, the door started to open.
He shot to his feet and brushed off his t-shirt like that would tidy the mess of feelings, too. Muttered, “idiot,” and in the next blink, he was perfectly clean. Then he flicked himself back to wet and rumpled–looking like a bum was solid, visual evidence that he’d camped outside her door all night like a guilt-ridden stray.It might earn him a sympathy point or two. But no. Damn it, he’d just sworn to be a better demon for her, and manipulating her into pitying him was probably not it. With a sigh, he shifted back to clean again. Still a guilt-ridden bastard, but less dirty.
The door opened.
She stepped out, half-turned and distracted, then jerked back with a startled gasp, nearly slamming into the doorframe. One hand flew to her chest, the other gripped the knob like she was ready to use it as a weapon.
Her eyes met his.
She froze.
So did he.
“I’m sorry,” he blurted out. “For everything.”
She raised an eyebrow. “How long have you been here?”
“All night.” He pushed his fist into his pockets so he wouldn’t yield to the temptation to touch her. He didn’t even touch the link to her for fear she might catch him and get pissed. Or more pissed. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Can we talk for a second?”
She crossed her arms. “So you can feed me more bullshit?”
“No. So I can explain a little better. You didn’t really give me time to do that last night.”
Her lips thinned out, a muscle in her jaw started twitching, and her eyes flared with temper. He backpaddled hard and fast. “Which was totally fine and understandable and valid. I’m just saying, there’s more to it, and I’d like to have a chance to explain it to you.”
Her eyes still burned, but the rest of her deflated enough for him to push. “Please, Daphne. Just let me explain.”
She looked away for a moment, licked her lips in a way that made his mouth water, and shrugged. “Go ahead. Fast, because I have to go open up.”
“I couldn’t tell you what I was or what I was doing. Literally. The Dreamscape has a rule against us keeping our identity secret. Something about messing with the dreams and stuff.”
“Like a secret agent?”
The knot in his throat loosened. “Exactly like that.”
“Then how come are you telling me this now?”
“Because I fell in love with you, and the Dreamscape, for as much as a pain in my ass that is, understands a couple of things.” There. It was out. And it was not the entire deal, but he didn’t want to add the bond yet. He wanted her to forgive him, want him, to love him, because of him, not because of anything else. So, yeah, another half-truth. But doing whole truths was hard, man, and this was heartfelt.
How was his declaration received? Daphne’s head snapped back, and she leaned against the wall, her brown eyes huge. It looked more like he’d just hit her with a brick, so far away from the throwing-herself-in-his-arms scene he’d envisioned that it was almost rude.
Fine.
“I was supposed to see what was wrong with your nightmares. Nothing else.” He shrugged. “I think I fell for you the first time you threatened to punch me.”
“But... how.... Why?”
“Now, Daphne, come on. That’s a dumb question. I’m in love with you because you didn’t need me. Don’t need me. You have yourself, your pain, your damn spine of steel. And somehow, you still let me in. Because you’re whole in spite of what life threw at you. Messed up, yeah, but grounded. And all that shit didn’t make you bitter. It made you generous, it made you into someone who built a safe space for anyone to breathe, making their life better one book at a time. You know your worth, and you still let me close. You called me on my shit over and over, and it made me want to be better so I could deserve you.” Herealized he had gotten very heated as he was explaining the simplest thing in the world, and he settled. He cleared his voice. “That’s why.” He frowned. “And you’re also hot. Scorching.”
Fuck me. Hunter watched as she looked away again, then back at him, and by the gods, her eyes were gleaming. Hope felt so fucking good...
