Ziros
Yeah, yeah, so I’m a coward.
I don’t know what the hell I’m so afraid of, but I can’t bring myself to go back in there.
Instead, I’m hanging off a balcony across the way, watching her through the window like a creep.
I don’t even know why the hell I’m so nervous. It’s not like I’m asking her to marry me.
I rub one palm over my eyes, cursing myself for even making that connection.
I just want to see her again. It should be safe now—my power is back under control. At least, mostly.
What am I even so embarrassed about?
Am I embarrassed because I did something for her? I was just doing what I said I would. After all, I said I’d take care of it.
It’s not like me to feel like this. Maybe it’s because I’ve never felt like this at all,ever, for anyone in as long as I’ve lived. I don’t know what to do with myself.
Every time I look at her, my heart races, and strange heat rushes through my body.
“Get a hold of yourself, man,” I mutter, leaping down from the balcony and onto the street below. “Be cool. Don’t be needy.”
The last thing I want is her to know how much I’ve been pining away for her.
She’s a mortal. A magical mortal, but still a mortal.
We can’t be together.
It just won’t work, and the sooner I get over her, the better.
At least, that’s what I’ve been telling myself on repeat for days. But no matter the logic, it’s no damn use.
I think I love her.
That’s a jarring thought, but it’s true.
“In love with a mortal,” I mutter under my breath, not even sure where I’m going—justgoingas I make my way down the crowded city streets.
All these years and I’m finally free, andthisis what I do? Pine away for a human? Ha!
I need to get out of here.
I won’t be gone forever. I know better than to think that now. I know I’ll be back.
This time, I’m just going away for a bit.
I need to clear my damn head.
You
Sometime later, you stand with your boss, Mel, in front of the cafe’s empty pastry display case.
“And all the rest were just dumped in the trash!” she says like she’s beyond hurt by it. She clearly has no idea how stale and cardboardy her baking was. “It’s a shame, really, but I guess I can’t be too beat-up by it since they replaced them.”
“True.” You cough, glancing away, trying to resist telling her how awful the originals were.
“It really wasn’t you?” Mel asks, watching your face like she’s trying to gauge if you’re lying. “If you dropped all the pastries on the floor or something and had to toss them, I would understand. You can tell me, June.”
