"It matters to me."
"Everything matters to you now because your lion wants me. But what happens when the novelty wears off? When you realize I really am just a boring human who reads during parties and can't keep up with shifters and doesn't belong in your world?"
"That won't happen."
"You don't know that."
"My lion—"
"Your lion chose me in a split second based on, what? Smell? Instinct? Some supernatural compatibility algorithm?" He shakes his head. "That's not enough. That's not a relationship. That's just... chemistry."
"It's more than that."
"Prove it." The word hangs between us, a challenge. "Prove it's more than your lion wanting me. Prove you want me—the boring parts, the anxious parts, all of it. Prove you're not going to wake up in six months and realize you made a mistake."
"How?"
He doesn't answer. Just looks at me with those tired, hurt eyes, and I would give anything—anything—to go back and do it differently.
Robin touches his arm. "Tobes, we should go."
"Yeah." Toby looks at me one more time. "I'll see you around, Knox."
He turns away, and I'm losing him. He's walking away and I'm losing him and I don't know how to stop it.
"Story hour is Thursday," Jason blurts out from behind me. "We promised the kids we'd come back."
Toby pauses. His shoulders are tense, but he doesn't leave.
"Lily asked about you," he says without turning around. "Asked when the ice cream sandwich men were coming back."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." He glances back, just for a second. "So... Thursday. If you want."
It's not forgiveness. Not even close. But it's a door left open. A crack of light in all this darkness.
"We'll be there."
He nods, once, and gets in the car. Robin glares at me with a look that promises violence if I fuck this up again, then gets in the driver's side.
I watch them pull away. Watch until the car disappears around the corner. Watch until I can't hear the engine anymore.
"So," Vaughn says once they're gone. "That could have gone worse."
"He thinks he's forgettable," I say, still staring at the empty road. "He thinks I'll get bored of him."
"Will you?"
I turn to look at my pride. Jason's hovering in the doorway, worried. Silas is quiet and watchful. Ezra looks guilty—he should, this is partly his fault, but I can't blame him for something I should have prevented. Vaughn's got his arms crossed, waiting for my answer.
"He reads during parties," I say slowly. "He wears cardigans with vegetables on them. He organizes drag queen story hour and does all the character voices. He walked two miles in a storm and walked right into a shifter bar and didn't flinch. He looked at my eyes flashing gold and told me they were pretty." I shake my head. "He's the least boring person I've ever met. And I'm going to spend the rest of my life proving that to him."
"So prove it," Ezra says quietly. "Prove you're not going to get bored. Prove you want the boring, everyday parts too."
"How?"
"By showing up," Silas says. "Consistently. Even when he pushes you away. Even when it's hard. You show up, and you keep showing up, until he believes you're not going anywhere."
