Ever since that night, Thallor seemed to stand a little nearer and watch a little closer. It wasn’t possessiveness, but protectiveness. A need to ensure, at all times, that I was safe. It had started with small excuses to join me running errands and evolved into him being present for the moments he could be. If he considered me or my life to be dull or boring, he never really said.
I supposed if I thought about it hard enough, the oppositewas probably more likely. He would linger by the door with his shoes on if he knew I was going out. It rarely took more than a ‘would you like to come with me?’before a grin would tear across his face. And as much as I hated to admit it, it was like something from a gallery or museum. It was as ifMichelangelohad etched the smile on Thallor’s beautiful face himself. ForgetDavid,this demon’s smile was truly the masterpiece.
The days became weeks and the weeks became months, and the reason probably faded into the background. Somewhere along the way, Thallor had gone from “you are the least tolerable”to “you’re certain they’ll have jam on toast at this coffee shop?” And somewhere along that same path, the one that seemed to weave and bob but kept us both moving in the same direction, I dropped pieces of my heart. Pieces I hadn’t realised were gone until I was standing there staring at him.
I walked over to him, approaching slowly, my socks muffling my steps against the floorboards. I let my fingertips slowly graze the muscle of his forearm before working my way down to his hand. He didn’t flinch, didn’t recoil. But he didn’t lean in either. He just stared ahead of himself, looking at nothing in particular.
“Hey,” I said quietly, hoping to draw his attention.
Nothing.
“Thallor…” I said again, my voice a little louder this time. I could feel the tension in his muscles and the way he held his breath. I don’t know where he’d gone in his own head, but from what I could see, he was working hard to keep the monster within him caged. I wasn’t sure what to do or how to help, but all I wanted was to pull him back to the present.
“Hey, look at me.” I let my fingers entwine with his, ignoring the burning heat of his skin and the way his claws scraped at me as his hand clenched around mine. Nothing happened for a beat, and then a slight wavering in his stoic stature suggested I was slowly breaking through the veil of his own making. “Hey,look, I’m fine,” I said, giving him the biggest smile I could, willing him away from whatever mental ledge he was standing on.
He didn’t reply, but the whites were returning to his eyes, and the glaze was starting to dissipate. It felt weird to have someone care about me like this. This was a whole swathe of gifted emotions that I wasn’t really sure how to deal with. But I held them carefully, gently in the palm of my hand and close to my chest.Myfeelings were unpredictable at the best of times, buthis,his felt precious.
His words were cold, almost mechanical, like he was trying to stop himself from feeling something. “You shouldn’t have gone, Sterling.”
“I know. I should have just crawled out the window or something,” I joked.
He nodded curtly with furrowed brows. For a moment, he didn’t talk. Didn’t say anything at all. He just stood there looking down on me. Jaw clenched, but eyes almost back to normal. I let my hand graze against his one more time. For a moment, I just let it linger, let myself feel the warmth of his skin and the strength of his muscles.
“You should have.”I know.
“Or pretended there was some sort of emergency,” I ruminated on all manner of excuses. “Sorry, I’ve got to go, a demon has been summoned in my kitchen and is wreaking havoc on my fridge!”
“A suitable reason to leave.”
“I know. I should have just left when he started being a pig, but…” I shrugged. “I guess I just felt good about myself. I was hoping that at some point he would at least notice.”
Thallor lifted a hand to my chin, tilting it upward to look at him. He stilled me with a gaze so serious I wasn’t sure if he was mad again. I wasn’t sure if I’d accidentally said something wrong or stupidor?—
“You are beautiful. And you should always,always,feel good about yourself. Just maybe in the company of someone who would appreciate it a little bit more.”
In the intensity of his eyes–his deep, crimson eyes–everything around us blurred into nothingness. I could hear no sounds or feel any movement. I couldn’t hear the whir of my fridge or Mortimer’s quiet purrs in the background. I couldn’t hear the cars outside my window. Everything around us–my apartment, my kitchen–everything disappeared at Thallor’s words until we were both suspended in silence.
My heart pulsed quicker and faster. My mind and my heart fought furiously. My mind, ever the pragmatist, reminded me that I was battered and bruised. That I couldn’t give him any more of myself, I couldn’t give him my heart just for him to give it back, bloody and broken when he left. But my heart had already betrayed me. Under my very nose.
“I…” It was the second time he’d caught me off guard, my voice coming out raspier and quieter than I’d meant it to. “You don’t really think I am beautiful, do you?”
A few seconds passed between us as I waited for his response. When one didn’t come, I stepped out of his grip, turning on the balls of my feet and heading toward the bedroom.
For the briefest of moments; for those few seconds I was still in his presence, I imagined his eyes on me. On the dip of my waist. On the glimmer of black that peeked through the white fabric of my skirt–an invitation if he was bold enough. Bold enough to tell me he wanted me just as much as I wanted him.
On the way my curly hair would trail down my back. Wild, free, and a little unruly, as if he’d already spent hours rifling his hands through it. I let those thoughts run rampant in my mind for just a moment.
Just one moment.
“Sterling,” he said quietly as I turned to look at him. “Nothing in my four hundred and seventy-three years could have prepared me for you. I have spent a lot of my life gazing upon beautiful things, but I know when looking at you that not one of those things could ever compare. When you’re around, I find it difficult to see anything else but you.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
After working the morning shift at Sandi’s, a job I’d gotten to replace my last one–the pay was worse, but the atmosphere was far better–I found myself sitting in the library. It had been weeks since I’d last heard from Isaac, meaning it had also been weeks since I’d seen my grandparents in person. They’d been off in Chesterwood for various hospital appointments, which gave me ample time to ruminate on everything Maura had said to me, and everything that had happened since.
I’d tried not to think about it. I’d tried not to let Thallor’s words eat away at me, but the more I stifled those thoughts, the more they seemed to rear up in ways I couldn’t quite comprehend, or maybe I could, but y’know what they say–ignorance is bliss.I found myself stealing glances at him when he wasn’t paying attention, drinking in the sight of his strong jaw, high cheekbones, and gold earring that seemed hellbent on taunting me. I’d even realised that his hair seemed to shift in colour depending on his mood. Some days it was a vibrant copper andon other days a bright crimson, which only served to reflect the red blush that seemed permanently painted across my cheeks.
More and more, I seemed to be chasing after my own breath when he was around, willing my legs to hold firm instead of bucking underneath me. My stomach was always tied in knots every time he spoke to me, and my cheeks felt a perpetual–but not unwelcome–ache from all the time I’d spent smiling.
