Intense, Aisling had said.One shone too fiercely, the sort of soothing that echoed on metal sheets in the rain, overwhelming and comfortable alike.Declan thought the second one might be along those lines: large, both physically and in personality, laughingly facing their own lack of edges.
But this one did not, in fact, wear a shirt with a saying on it, nor was it bright enough to wake the birds.A logo, yes, of a charity Declan vaguely recognized, the garment well past his waist.Cargo shorts, sneakers, and atinycanine accessory that looked more fur than substance.
Micah.His name was Micah.Aisling hadn’t caught the dog’s name, or, at any rate, had failed to report it to Declan.
Micah slowed when he saw Declan, watching with hesitant eyes the same brown as his messy hair.Unfortunately for Micah’s wavering, his pet sped toward Declan.The dog, tail wagging, tried their best to haul Micah’s delicate self toward Declan, despite the changeling’s half-hearted, “Pepper, please.”
“Good morning, Pepper,” Declan greeted.“Are you a puppy that’s allowed ear scritches?”
“Uhm,” Micah said, his voice soft and lilting and sweet, “If– If she, she’s bothering you, you don’t need to pet her.I’m sorry.She’s just– She’s friendly.”
“She’s grand.”Declan leaned over, offering his hand for a sniff.Pepper snuffled at his fingers, licked at his nails, and squirmed closer with a happy whine.Dogs were supposed to dislike strange things from the voids, but shewasvery small.Maybe it was a thing for dogs over a certain size.Aubergine, minimum.“Her name is Pepper?”
“I– Yes.”Micah twisted his hands together, big eyes curious and wary by turns.“I’m Micah.”
Micah was rosemary and spring blossoms, threaded through with sweet, soft sugar.Fragile.As small as Declan, and all the more delicate for it with the flutter of thick, long lashes, and teeth nibbling at his own lip.Meadows and glimmering hooves, and-
A bloody unicorn.Had to be.Aunicornchangeling?He–
A question for later.Not for now, with Micah’s careful step closer, hands now trembling and lips parted to taste the air.His eyes flickered gold, silver, and then back to the lovely soft brown.
“Hello, Micah.Pepper.”Declan rubbed the dog behind the ears, studying Micah from under his lashes and short hair, left loose.“I didn’t mean to alarm you.”
Micah blushed.Heblushed, a fierce scarlet over skin only a few shades darker than the bleached bone of Declan’s.Those eyes dropped to Pepper, staring as if she held all the answers.
Declan hadn’t made someone blush without trying in … ever.He stared, fascinated, as the heat crept over Micah’s cheeks and temple to ears, neck, and voids knew where else.
“You– You didn’t.I mean, I wasn’t, we weren’t, there isn’t usually anyone … here.That’s all.What I mean.I– Do I … know you?”Micah swallowed hard, daring another peek at Declan.“I’m sorry.That– I don’t mean to be rude.Presumptuous.”
Declan needed to speak to his mother about her definition of ‘intense.’Kevin had that glaring vibrancy to him.Micah swung to the other side, shivered like a flower wilding in the cool dark of a monster’s shadow.
“You aren’t being rude,” Declan assured him.Micah’s breath caught, big eyes all the more so, pretty and breakable and quivering from Declan’sexistence.“Don’t worry, Micah.You aren’t for me.”
“I’m- I’m not, that’s… You make me think of fire.”Whispered, that, and Micah’s eyes gone wet.At their feet, Pepper whimpered.Bloody unicorns.“A field of flowers and flame.It’s… I–”
“I’ve a friend who might remind you of something happier than that,” Declan interrupted, making himself tread gently.He pulled Kevin’s number from wherever those things went, when fae had no pockets, and offered it to Micah.“This was a mistake.”
“But–”
“I’d burn you.”Declan leaned in and tucked the number into a pocket newly created on the changeling’s shirt.He patted Micah’s chest once, when the paper was safely tucked away.“You should have someone kind.Call my friend.Or text, if you fear you’ll cry on the phone.”
Declan wasn’t a nice person.He left as Micah’s eyes welled with fresh tears.
Declanfoundhismotherin the kitchen.His sister, Eithne, cooked by hand as her trade, but other than her visits, it remained largely a space for Aisling’s small magicks.She enjoyed shaping the world in little ways, stitching magic into trinkets, rather than leaving it to Faerie’s whims.
She glanced up expectantly when Declan stepped inside, then behind him.He saw the moment it clicked for her, when her brows, thin and dark, furrowed together, lips pressed into a line.
“Productive visit, darling?”Aisling looked back to her project, curling it tidily into a ball.
“Oh, yes.”Declan leaned against the counter, his fingers splayed on the cool surface.“When you said ‘intense’, I imagined brooding.Focused.Not good-natured sunshine and a changeling who cries at the taste of magic.”
“I thought you wanted someone with emotions, hummingbird.”
“Mother, he said I reminded him of a field of flowers on fire andstillwanted to be near me.”
Aisling sighed heavily, as she liked to do, and tucked the project away in a pocket.“Are you upset with me because your prospectslikedyou?That isn’t the face you make when you’re turned down.”
No, it wasn’t.Declan hid away when an invitation to discuss a possible bond returned with rejection.His face was silence and absence for a day, and back to normal the next.He allowed himself that day.
