A scowl twisted the boy’s face, his vague features stretching and distorting, like taffy, his skin taut. His eyes sank into deep black pits, his skin rotting and peeling from his bones.
When he spoke again, it was an angry shriek that scraped against Felix’s skull. “I said play with me!”
With a jolt, Felix wrenched back.
“Solach!” he gasped, the image of the boy vanishing as soon as he let go. His heart thudded, and he fought to catch his breath.
August opened his eyes, unfazed by the memory. “He’s not even the worst one. Just the most persistent.” He shook his head. “My uncle. Spoiled brat throws a tantrum whenever he doesn’t get his way.”
Felix pressed his hand flat against his chest, willing his pulse to settle.
“Was that too much?” August asked, frowning. “I should’ve picked a different one. I just thought, that’s the one I’ve seen the most, so I figured I’d remember him clearer than any of the others.”
Felix blinked hard, the faint image of the boy still there behind his eyelids. “You see themevery day?”
August responded with a sullen nod.
No wonder he seemed constantly on edge if that was what he was dealing with.
“How are you still functioning at all?”
At that, August smiled.
“That was amazing,” Felix said, beaming. “One more.”
August sifted through memories, searching for another to show. It was a strange, blissful kind of feeling, sharing this with Felix, and he couldn’t help noticing how intimate it felt. How much helikedhow intimate it felt.
August picked one—this time of Callum because he was far less creepy—and nodded.
“Ready.”
When Felix’s hands slipped into his hair, pressing gently against his temples, a shiver ran through August, lifting goosebumps on his arms. His cheeks warmed, and a different memory filled his head.
He saw Felix at The Raven’s Perch, the third time he’d snuck out to meet him. Maybe the fourth? They’d spent an hour tucked into one of the booths, talking about food and cooking, and Felix had eagerly offered to teach him someday. After clearing their plates, Felix dropped them off in the kitchen and swung by the bar on his way back. He leaned in to say something to Petra, then laughed at her reply. It was an unguarded, carefree sort of laughthat lit up his entire face, the heady sound carrying over the din of the pub.
August hadn’t realized he was grinning like an idiot until Felix turned to come back and paused, blue eyes holding his gaze with a look that was soft and thick as sleep.
August’s world narrowed to only him.
I think I might have accidentally fallen for you.It was the thought that had occurred to him then, in that shared moment, made even truer with the passing of weeks.
“That’s not an anchored,” Felix said, dragging August abruptly from the memory.
His stomach dropped to the floor as his eyes popped open. “I wasn’t ready.”
How much had Felix seen? Had August thought the words? Did he hear?
Baellas tell me he didn’t hear.
A knowing smile spread across Felix’s face, and his voice reverberated inside August’s head. “You like me.”
Panic flooded through August, and heat crept up his neck, pooling in his cheeks. “What? No. Why would you think that?” He wrinkled his nose, which felt like overkill, so he forced it smooth.
“I’m sorry, Auggie.” This time, Felix spoke the words. He tried for a serious look, but his mouth twitched, betraying his attempt. “You said you were ready.”
“I didn’t, I don’t—” August slid off the bench, putting distance between them. It did nothing to cool the fire scorching his cheeks.
“I swear, I didn’t mean to peek.” The smile finally broke through. “Youdo, though.”
