He thrust a hand towards me. His other hand covered his eyes. "I beg of you to give me back the blindfold."
It wasn't that I wanted to make Devereaux uncomfortable. If hereallywanted it back, I had no problem returning it. But first I needed him to know how I felt.
Not letting him turn away, I walked around so we were face-to-face. "I'll give it back to you in a second. I want you to listen to me though, okay?"
He hesitated, then nodded. He didn't uncover his face.
"It's your eyes, isn't it? That's why you're so upset?" I asked.
"Yes," he ground out. "They are disgusting and awful, and you never should have witnessed me in such a sorry state—"
I couldn't listen to this anymore. I took his other hand and gripped it firmly. "That's enough. I can't bear seeing you upset like this, and for no reason either!"
"For no reason?" Devereaux muttered. "Florian, I am a monster."
Did he really think that? I would've laughed if he wasn't so seriously upset.
"You're no such thing," I said gently. "And even if you were, it wouldn't matter. Because no matter what you are, I love you, Devereaux."
16
Devereaux
It was over.All over.
Whatever relationship I had built up with Florian up to this point was doomed and falling to shambles as we spoke. He saw my eyes. He knew half the truth, but what difference did the percentage make? All that mattered was that my inhuman nature was revealed, and any speck of a chance I had with him was over. Any moment now he would run away screaming, or if a simple blunt rejection wasn’t too much to ask, he would leave now and never return. The latter would hurt my heart worse. I almost preferred him to say I was a disgusting creature—at least that way I could not cling to any scraps of hope.
But Florian did not leave. And then, through the fog of my terror, I heard the words that cut through my darkness like beacons of light:
"I love you, Devereaux."
I did not turn around to face him. I was stunned, frozen to the spot, like my gargoyle shape was blending with my human form. I did not even want to peer at Florian through my fingers. I was afraid that if I looked at him, this illusion of peace would shatter.
But Florian did not give me a choice. He reached up to gently grasp my arms and lower them, removing them from my face so my sapphire eyes were fully exposed. I felt vulnerable and strange. My chest twisted into knots.
"Look at me, Devereaux," Florian said softly.
I shivered at the gentleness in his voice. It had not faded, despite seeing my true face for what it was. There was no point trying to hide it any longer. I looked down at Florian's sweet expression. There was no inkling of judgment, no disgust or fear. There was only acceptance and love.
Yet, as much as I wanted to believe this was reality, part of me worried that Florian did not know the whole truth. I had to tell him. If he was going to confess such grand feelings to me, he deserved to know everything.
"Florian," I said, my voice gravelly and thick with emotion, "I am not human."
He smiled. "I had a feeling. Then what are you?"
So he still did not run? My chest squeezed tightly, a swarm of butterflies soaring through it.
There was a knowingness to his voice, like perhaps he was already aware, yet was giving me the opportunity to tell him myself.
My gaze drifted to the fountain. The perch where I stood as a gargoyle was empty. When I could not find the right words, Florian squeezed my hands, reassuring me of his presence. When did he slip his hands into mine? They were so small and soft and warm. I never wanted to release them.
"I am a gargoyle," I finally admitted. "The one who sits atop the fountain over there."
Florian followed my gaze, saw the empty perch, then turned back to me. He was still smiling.
"I have a confession to make. I kind of knew that already," he said sheepishly. "When you were unconscious and I saw your eyes, I put two and two together."
Shock ran through me.
