The silence stretches between us, but it’s not uncomfortable. The TV is off. A candle burns on a side table and there’s some light jazz music coming from a record player. The city outside the window hums with distant traffic. My body starts to feel heavy, but not in the bad way. Just tired.
Safe.
Then I remember something.
At the hospital, when Alaric was crying into my shoulder, barely breathing between the apologies and the panic—I think he said it. The words.I love you.
I was too far gone to process it then, too numb and broken to believe it was real. But now, sitting here, sober, with his hand resting loosely on the couch near mine, I need to know if I imagined it.
“Hey,” I say quietly.
He hums in response, not looking up. His silvery hair glinting in the soft light.
“Back at the hospital,” I start, trying to sound casual. “You said something. To me.”
He finally glances over. “I said a lot of things.”
“No,” I say, leaning in slightly. “You said something important.”
A faint pink rises in his cheeks. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I grin a little. “You do.”
“I don’t.”
I lean closer. “Say it again.”
He laughs nervously. “You hit your head. You must have been hearing things.”
“Say it,” I whisper, brushing my thumb against his jaw. “I need to hear it.”
He looks at me, torn between embarrassment and affection. Then he tries to stand up, but I catch his wrist and pull him back down, pushing him into the couch cushions.
“Magnus—”
My mouth interrupts him. The kiss is slow and maybe a little needy. “Say it.”
He exhales, eyes flicking to my mouth. “You’re really not going to let this go, are you?”
“Not a chance.”
The tension between us hums—electric, familiar, but softer now. His heartbeat is visible in the hollow of his throat. I shift closer, my lips aching to be on his neck.
“You almost died,” he says, voice barely above a whisper. “And you want to pick a fight about semantics?”
“I want the truth.”
He presses his lips together, stubborn. So I kiss him again.
His breath catches against mine, and for a second, he melts into it. When I pull back, his eyes are half-lidded, pupils wide.
“Say it,” I murmur again.
He shakes his head, but he’s smiling now. “You’re such an ass.”
“Yeah,” I say, kissing the corner of his mouth.
That earns me a quiet laugh. His hand slides up my arm, stopping at my shoulder. “You drive me crazy.”
