“It was a lapse in judgement, okay?”
“That does seem to be the theme when it comes to you.”
“You can go back to hating me now. I think that was less painful,” I huffed before stalking into the bedroom.
The next fewweeks came and went in a blur. I’d spent most of it writing and then rewriting paragraphs whilst prompting Jude for his thoughts and feelings on the points I was making. I’d learnt the hard way that trying to get Jude to engage was an entirely futile endeavour. I was clearly touch-starved and delusional because even with his limited participation, I’d found Jude pleasant, charming, and fun to be around. He had spent every moment we were together flirting with me and paying me compliments, and despite my better judgement, I’d reverted back to my awkward, teenage self. One that could overlook his lack of concentration, because having him around did wonders for my ego.
My shifts at the bar hadn’t gotten much better. TheBoardroom Butcherwas there pretty much every night, even on the days I didn’t work, according to Nick. I’m not sure if that made me feel better or worse, but every night without fail, the man sat at the same dimly lit booth he always sat at and stared off into space. As much as I would have loved to get him barred from entering, other than being a bit of a weirdo with a penchant for peanuts, he never did anything untoward. I’d wanted to avoid working there altogether, but needed the money and tips the weekend shifts afforded me.
Thallor was becoming increasingly irritated with me again. Although we had fallen into a comfortable routine, things had taken a turn for the worse when I told him I was no closer to deciding what to wish for than I had been several weeks prior. This wasn’t true, of course, but my research had taken a back seat whilst I’d been focusing on my course assignment.
In an attempt to cure him of his bad mood, I had bought Thallor the second book in the mafia romcom series. This one was titledThe Mafioso’s Mistressand rated 3.5 chillis. Once or twice, I had caught him sitting with a pillow over his lap and an aggressively bright blush on his face that had the corner of my lips tugging upward.Too tame, my ass.But even that hadn’t served to improve his mood. If anything, it just made him more tense and more irritable.
And that mood was rubbing off on me. I sighed deeply as I continued to potter around my apartment, scolding my plants and their inability to stay alive. If I could have berated them into photosynthesising more efficiently, I would have. But everywhere I looked, I saw shrivelled-up, brown leaves, wilted stems, and weepy-looking flowers. I found myself instantly swept up in my own botany-fuelled rage, my own muttering cloaking Thallor’s footsteps as he closed the gap between us, leaning over my body until the firm warmth of his body encapsulated mine.
Thallor had made his feelings perfectly clear. Crystal clear.No-room-for-misunderstandingclear, but something about his actions, the ones I knew he wouldn’t give a second thought to, sent my heart galloping until I was sure it would shoot straight out of my chest.
“What are you doing?” he asked. I found myself becoming flustered by Thallor at the most inopportune moments. I don’t know what it was. I should have been used to his proximity by now, but the way his warm breath prickled at the skin of my neck shot a jolt of electricity through my body and into my head, overpowering the wires in my brain before they malfunctioned altogether.
“They—” I stuttered as he leaned in closer.Words, Quincey. The foundation of communication. One of the first things you ever learn. Maybe try using them.“Um, my plants keep dying on me. I’m trying to figure out why.”
“I hadn’t noticed,” he said sarcastically, before standing up straighter. I rolled my eyes, giving myself a much-needed reprieve from the way his eyes bore into me. I took a steadying breath and then another, hoping the sudden closeness wouldn’t result in my knees buckling beneath me. “You’re not very good at taking care of things.”
“Right.” The buildup of nervous energy escaped me in the form of a huffed laugh that had me sounding short of breath. I wrung my hands together and willed my mind to slow down as I cleared my throat. “I always water them?—”
Thallor settled me with a look laced with incredulity. I grimaced and prepared for the appropriately directed chiding because I could not for the life of me remember the last time I had watered this plant.
“Okay,” I corrected myself, “I sometimes try to remember to water?—”
The skin of his bare forearm momentarily brushedagainst mine as he side-stepped me, leaning down and placing a hand in the soil. I watched slowly as the curled-over leaves began to unfurl, the yellow, weathered edges retreated slowly, and in their place seeped a vibrant green that could scarcely be seen amongst the rest of my plants. I looked down at Thallor with wide eyes, his scarlet rings locking onto mine with a glimmer of triumphant amusement. I almost caught the very edge of a grin before he stood up and righted himself.
“I’m about to ask a potentially stupid question here, but did you just do that?” I asked.
“No, the plant you stopped watering a month ago actually decided it didn’t need to be watered to survive.”Was the big, bad, scary demon taking the piss out of me?Thallor’s face remained unreadable, but there was a slight lilt to his voice that suggested he was, in fact, mocking me.Playfully.“Now, no matter what you do, this plant should never die.” He enunciated the wordyouwith pointed emphasis.
I just looked up at him, feeling bemused more than anything else. I felt off-kilter somewhat as I churned through any and all possible excuses for why Thallor would have done this, something so trivial as keeping my plants alive. Alongside the rest of the clutter in my apartment, the array of greenery and my emotional support succulents were incredibly important to me. Although wegraduallysettled into a more familiar routine with each other, our conversations and interactions rarely ever surpassed surface level. Other than the occasional grumble and the disgruntled look always etched across his face, Thallor kept to himself. And yet, there would be times, asrareas they were, where Thallor’s true personality would shine through the cracks of his well-built walls. The first spark in a raging fire.
“Well, thank you,” I said quietly. “You didn’t…have to do that.”
“I figured you could use the help.” He shrugged as he turned away from me.
“I don’tneedyour help.”
“You barely remember to feed yourself, Sterling.”
That was the third or fourth time he had referred to me by my last name. He said it, slowly, like he was savouring it, like he liked the way it tasted. And Ihatedit. I hated the way I felt it. Hated the way I noticed it. It stirred something deep within me. Something I had no intention of addressing. Something I decided I would shove into a box and push to the dusty, back corner of my mind, where all my other old crushes and inconvenient feelings went to die.
There was something so amusing about a big, hulking demon being so enraptured by a jar of crushed fruit. (Although mass-produced, I told myself it had been made by a sweet, old lady in her rustic kitchen, which really added a little something extra to an already amusing image.) The first time Thallor had called meSterlingwas when I’d replaced the jar of strawberry jam for the third time in two weeks. He had used a tone that was so warm and familiar that it had startled me,thrown me for a fucking loop.It had left me all hot, sweaty, and pink-cheeked. Something that Thallor had not failed to notice.
“I feed myself,” I said as I fought the urge to roll my eyes at him. “Sometimes…”
He simply shook his head.
“Who knows, maybe if you touched me like that plant, I’d come—” Hearing the words as they came out of my mouth, I stammered slightly, which instantly drew his attention. Thallor’s eyes whipped up to meet mine, the rings of his eyes darker than they had been only moments ago. Every atom in my body screamed out in response.He might like ‘direct’ but that wasnotwhat I meant.“—come back to life too. I’d stop feeling so tiredall the time.”
When he didn’t respond, I laughed awkwardly. My high-pitched, immature giggles filled the space between us. “Sorry, I must have your book on my mind.” I flashed Thallor the toothiest grin I could muster.
“Are you trying to tell me something, Sterling?” Fighting all my willpower and losing, my eyes dropped to his unnecessarily large hands, letting the images of them trailing across my body pull me away from the conversation for just a second before looking back up at him.
