“And maybe, just maybe, seeing each other again someday,” Ellie added, clinking her glass against Laura’s.
“Apart from Dustin,” Varesh threw in, reminding me I’d barely given our building manager a thought.
As the others laughed, I drew a shuddering breath and touched my glass to Theo’s. The fragile threads holding us together were unravelling, and I wanted to hold on to them as long as I could.
Theo’s hand swept across my lower back, his breath warming my neck. The festoon lights flickered and swayed in the breeze, throwing moving shadows over the space. Willow’s footsteps thudded softly on the treadmill in the background.
As the group broke off into quieter, separate conversations, I hoped that when we left here tomorrow, the memory of us would linger on the rooftop—that our presence wouldn’t be forgotten.
“Come on.” Theo gave my back a brisk rub and eased the wineglass from my fingers. “Time to call it a night.”
I reluctantly climbed off his lap and took one last look around, imprinting the image on my brain.
My heart twisted, but I forced a smile.
He’d timed our departure perfectly, because I’d already started second-guessing myself.
After showering and changing into a loose tank and long pyjama bottoms, I stood at Theo’s living room window, staring into the darkness.
The streetlights were still glowing out there, but they’d fizzle in the coming days—just like every other part of our lives we’d taken for granted.
The occasional house had illuminated windows, and slow-moving silhouettes staggered down the centre of the road, their numbers growing by the day.
Somewhere out there, Ava was making her way home. I hoped she was still herself, that she hadn’t become one of the dead. Rubbing my bare arms, I tried not to imagine what she was going through.
The rumble of the pipes stopped, and my heart thudded faster. Theo would be out of the bathroom soon, his damp hair messy and adorable, his mouth tilted upward in that all too appealing smile.
The wine on the rooftop had given me a warm feeling inside—or maybe it was the memory of his thumb nudging beneath my jacket.
I huffed out a breath and stared at my reflection in the window. Why lie to myself? The wine had nothing to do with it. It was all Theo.
When the door opened, my stomach did an annoying flip. I didn’t need to look over my shoulder to know he was smiling at me.
“Can’t you sit in a normal chair anymore?” he asked. “Are you waiting for my lap again?”
I turned to face him, expecting to see a playful look to match his words, but his eyes were soft and sincere. “Is it still available?”
“I think you know the answer to that.”
So taken with his expression, I didn’t notice the rest of him at first. Bare chest. Black pyjama pants. My gaze dropped lower, and my pulse jumped. Nothing under those pants. Entranced by the intricate lines on his skin, I moved closer, stopping when wewere almost toe to toe. Tattoos covered both arms and part of his chest, a tangle of roses and thorns. Skulls. A straight razor.
I’d seen the artwork on his arms, but his chest piece stood out from all the others. A hint of colour amidst the darkness.
On his left pec, a dark, masculine silhouette embraced a woman made entirely of roses, her red petals scattering behind her on the wind. The longer I stared at the image, the heavier my chest grew. No matter how tightly he clung to her, she was slipping away from him.
I lifted my hand before I could stop myself, carefully tracing the petals.
His mum. I didn’t need to ask. It was there in the tattoo’s placement, in the desperation to keep her grounded while the wind took her.
Theo shivered and clasped my wrist, sweeping his thumb over my pulse. “I wish you could have met her.”
“So do I.” The roughness of his voice almost broke me. I leaned in and pressed a kiss on the tattooed version of him, and with a harsh breath, he slipped his hand around the back of my neck to hold me to him.
With my cheek turned to his chest, I hugged his waist and listened to the steady beat of his heart. For a few precious seconds, all I cared about was the warmth of his arms, and I was in no hurry to move.
Shouting drifted up from the street, the outside interrupting, a reminder it was always waiting for us.
I pushed it from my mind and lifted my head.
