I suck him a bit harder and continue stroking my hands up and down his length.
He catches his breath, his body going still, and then something hot hits my tongue and the back of my throat. I’m not sure if I’m supposed to keep going, so I just tighten my lips around him, trying to catch it all. But there’sso much, and soon I have to pull away, and Aric drains what’s left of his cum onto the leaves at his feet.
My eyes flick up to meet his, and he holds my gaze as I swallow.
I’m not sure what I expected it to taste like, but it’s somewhat light, though salty. I reach up to wipe my lips with the back of my hand, and Aric lets out a low rumble of a laugh.
“You are...” He shakes his head and slowly reaches for his trousers, knees shaking a bit. “You are full of surprises. And you’re amazing. And so fucking hot. And brilliant. And—” He gets his trousers pulledup and fastened, then sinks down against the tree, now at eye level with me, where I’m still on my knees. “And I’d really like to hold you now.”
He pats the leafy spot beside him, and I crawl over to join him, slumping against his warm body—though that fire spell Lyra did on me earlier has done a great job of warding off the cold all night. Aric loops an arm around my shoulders and presses a kiss to the top of my head, then snags a leaf out of my hair that I didn’t even realize was there.
“So, what’s the verdict on your first blow job?”
A laugh slips out of me at how casually he says it, like he’s asking me to pass him a cinnamon bun or something.
“It was... not as scary as I expected. And also, salty.”
Aric rumbles with a laugh. “Sorry. I’ll make sure to drink plenty of fruit juice next time.”
Looking up at him, I arch a brow. “Juice? Why?”
His smile slants upward on one side. “It’ll make me taste sweeter for you.” With one thumb, he dabs the corner of my lips, and my cheeks heat up at the implication. But then he pulls me against him again, and I snuggle my head up under his chin.
For a long time, neither of us speaks. We sit there against the old oak, breathing steadily, watching the enchanted candles float on an autumn breeze.
Then Aric says, “There’s something I’ve wanted to tell you...”
My stomach tightens, and a nervous tingle goes through me. I try not to let myself immediately jump to conclusions. “What is it?”
He’s quiet for a moment, his hand absently tracing patterns on my shoulder. “Remember Alden? Aurora’s partner?”
“The carpenter,” I say, remembering how he bounced his child on his knee at the outdoor table, their matching brown curls glowing in the afternoon sun. “Yeah. What about him?”
Aric shifts slightly and draws a breath before he continues. “He offered me an apprenticeship, starting after I graduate. I’d learn woodworking and combine it with my runesmithing—creating enchanted furniture. I helped him out with a rune he’d been struggling with, and that’s when he offered me the chance to come work with him.”
“An apprenticeship?” I say slowly. “In . . . Faunwood?”
Aric nods, the earrings in one of his ears winking in the light from a passing candle.
That means he’d leave. Not now, but soon. After graduation, which is still a whole semester away, but in this context, it feels closer than ever.
And I’ll still have a year left at the academy. A year without him. Like Lyra and Cairn. And I’ve seen how hard that is on her.
My heart sinks even as I smile up at him. “That’s wonderful. That... That sounds perfect for you.” The thought makes my chest feel tight, like I can’t quite draw a full breath. But I force myself to sit up, to look at him even though my eyes are burning. “You should take it.”
He blinks. “What?”
“You should take it,” I repeat, more firmly this time, even though the words sting as I say them. “It sounds likea wonderful opportunity.” I give him a small smile. “And I know how hard you’ve worked on your rune magic. You’d be incredible at it.”
“You’d be okay with that? With me being gone?”
“I’d miss you, but... I’m not going to be something that holds you back.”
He catches my hand and presses it firmly against his chest, so I can feel his heart beating beneath my palm. “You wouldn’t be holding me back. We’d just have to figure out how to make it work. The distance.”
Distance. The word hangs between us.
A year is a long time. Long enough for him to realize that a long-distance relationship is too much trouble. Long enough for him to meet someone in Faunwood—someone who’s there, present, not just in letters and occasional visits. Long enough for what we have to fade into something that used to be.
