Her cheeks heated, and she snuggled a bit closer. "Why do you think we only ever have these conversations in bed?"
His smile was wistful, the pad of his thumb tracing her jaw. "Because we’re not being pulled in a dozen different directions by people claiming to need us? Maybe it’s simpler than that. You can speak the secrets of your heart in the dark, dove. That's what the dark is for."
The secrets of her heart. She was exhausted, not just from the party. The last year of her life had somehow contained her giddiest, most in-love highs and her most agonizing, tear-soaked lows. She was tired from all of it. She was heavy and exhausted, and there was some namelessthingtwisting in the pit of her stomach.You’re just nervous for tomorrow. Her eyes pricked with tears at the mere thought of the next day and heart’s most secret daydream.
"Pretend for a moment," she whispered into the small space between them, "that I'm just another Elvish girl from Castlemartyr. And you're just another Elvish boy. We have our whole lives stretched before us. What would you do then? If I wasn't Silva from Cambric Creek and you weren't an Orcish barkeep from Greenbridge Glen?"
He looked as exhausted as she felt, Silva thought. Exhausted and inexorably sad. Just the sight of the grief in his honey-gold eyes made her heart clench, and her tears overflowed.
The side of his finger caught her tears before they had a chance to soak into the pillow, at least on the one side. "Oh, that's an easy question to answer, little dove. I would barter with you for your hand, Silva of Castlemartyr." His fingers were long, but her tears were too plentiful. They ran along the edge of his hand, leaking down her face in slow moving, salty tracks. On the other side of the pillow, Tate's eyes were glossy, seemingly lit from within. "You would wear flowers in your hair, and our families would exchange gifts as a sign of coming together as one.”
Her throat closed, the sob brewing in her chest choking her for a moment as she tried to breathe around it. She tried toenvision their two families, her mother actually being happy for her, his family still alive and whole. His fingers had given up the impossible task of damming her tears, instead moving on to smooth her hair as she heaved.
“I would marry you at Midsummer. They would bind our hands in a green field of clover beneath a purple sky, and I would love you until there's nothing left in this world, on either side of the veil.”
Her sob broke free, a strangled wail she attempted to swallow down. Silva reached out, catching the tear that moved down his long jaw like a droplet of dew.
“Don't fool yourself into thinking you're the only one with impossible daydreams, Silva.”
She’d felt foolish at how many times she’d tried to envision what their future would like. There was a stunning house in Greenbridge Glen, nestled in the hills, off the highway. It would be the perfect place for a winter wedding in the snow — binding their hands and exchanging their rings outdoors, before repairing inside with their guests to celebrate the union. She could easily see his vision as well — surrounded in the rolling green countryside, fireflies winking around them as they kissed beneath the darkening sky.Don't fool yourself into thinking you're the only one with impossible daydreams.It was close enough for her to touch. All he needed to do was take one last step.
“Tomorrow,” she choked out around her tears. “Tomorrow I’m going to have lunch with my Grandmother here in town. I want you to come. I want her to meet you and see us together.”
For a long moment, he said nothing, only stroked her cheeks, following the contours of her face with the tip of his finger as if he were trying to memorize every detail, until the comforting lull of it had her drifting back to sleep.
“Silva, I want you to make me a promise."
His voice was a hum, and her eyes blinked slowly open, the salty tracks of her tears now itching down her cheek.
"I want you to promise me that you're going to live your life, little dove. That you're going to live your life and not look back."
He was stroking her hair as if she were a kitten, rubbing a strand of it between his fingers. "I don't understand," she whispered, holding back a yawn. "Did you hear what I said? I want my nana to meet you."
The weight of his hand on her scalp was comforting and heavy, the drag of his fingers down her neck making her head loll.
"Regret is a treacherous thing, dove. It’ll burn you up. It’ll burn up everything you have to give and then some, but it’ll never keep you warm. I don't want you to look back and regret. I want you to live your life. You'll always be the reason my heart beats, Silva, but Ineedto know that you're going to live your life. Don't wait for me."
Her eyes slipped closed once more, unable to keep up with his riddles.
"Promise me, dove. And then I have to go."
Her head swayed on the pillow, roused as he shook her slightly. "Yes," she blurted. "Yes, I promise."
"Good." His voice was a whisper against her lips, and she breathed into his kiss, long and slow.
Things would be better, after tomorrow. This week had shown how easy it could be, if she could only make them see reason.After tomorrow, everything is going to change. Silva knew it.
“Tate . . . I love you,” she murmured, eyes already closed again. Through the fog of her sleepiness, Silva felt him press his lips to her forehead and his forehead to hers.
"I’ll love you forever, Silva of the Nighttime."
Another kiss to the tip of her nose, then he was extricating himself from her grasp, leaving the bed. She had no idea wherehe was going, but she hoped he would be back soon. She slept best pressed to his chest, his arms around her.
"Tate," she called out to the dark room, the heavy tendrils curling through her head weighing her down. "Will you be back soon?"
Silence was her only response for so long when he paused at the door, that Silva began to doze once more.
"I'll try, dove. I'll try to get back to you, if I can. I love you, Silva. I always will."
