Partner. The word settles somewhere in my chest, warm and permanent.
"Then yes." I kiss her forehead gently. "We can definitely continue this."
Much later, when the fire has burned down to embers and we're both warm and sated, she stays in my lap. Her head on my shoulder, the blanket wrapped around us, my arms secure around her waist.
The storm outside has quieted to a gentle snow. Through the windows, I can see the world has gone white and peaceful.
"We should probably move to actual furniture," she murmurs against my neck. "The floor can't be comfortable for you."
"I've slept in worse places." I tighten my hold. "Besides, I'm not ready to let go yet."
"Good." She snuggles closer. "Neither am I."
“Maybe, I’ll go with you to get the boughs, that way you can warm me up again.”
I blink and stare at her. This impossible gift. This impossible creature. A witch I can respect. A witch I can want.
She scans my face. “Too much? I’m not very subtle.”
"No." I cup her face, memorizing this moment. Her flushed cheeks, bright eyes, the happiness radiating through our bond. "Don't ever be subtle. I've had two centuries of people being indirect and cold. I want..." I search for words. "I want your honesty. Your chaos. Your terrible sense of direction and your complete disregard for proper measurements."
"That's the most romantic thing anyone's ever said to me."
"Then you've been talking to the wrong people."
"Probably." She settles back against my chest with a contented sigh. "But I found the right person eventually."
The right person. As if I'm not a centuries-old vampire with more blood on my hands than she can imagine. As if I'm not broken and damaged and barely remembering how to be anything other than a weapon.
But when she looks at me like I'm something precious instead of something terrifyingI almost belie ve it.
"We should eat something," I say eventually. "You need to replenish after losing body heat. And after..." I trail off, feeling heat creep up my neck.
"After making out with my vampire partner in front of the fire?" She finishes helpfully. "You can say it. We're allowed to talk about the things we do."
"Making out," I repeat. "Is that what we're calling it?"
"What would you call it?"
I think about her in my lap, her hands in my hair, the taste of her on my tongue. "Revelatory."
She laughs, the sound bright and warm. "Revelatory. I like that." She stretches like a cat, the blanket slipping slightly. "But yes, food would be good. I'm starving."
"Stay here. I'll bring something."
"Absolutely not." She starts to stand, pulling the blanket with her. "You're not waiting on me. We're partners, remember? We do things together."
"Even when you're wearing hardly anything but a blanket?"
"Especially then. Besides..." She grins over her shoulder as she heads toward the kitchen. "I need to get dressed anyway. Unless you want me to cook in just a blanket?"
The image that creates in my mind is deeply unhelpful.
"Clothes," I manage. "Clothes would be... appropriate."
"Spoilsport." But she's laughing as she disappears toward the stairs.
I sit there for a moment longer, staring at the dying fire, trying to process what just happened.
