We’re not talking about the fall anymore.
At least, not mine.
Maybe I’m being too harsh with him. Being unwilling to stand up for Zan unequivocallyisbad, but I am also expecting him to undo the habits of a lifetime in days.
Kovan has never had to go against the priesthood before. He’s never had the option to stand up for what he believes in before, not to mention even decide for himself what that is.
But being angry with him is so much safer than the alternative.
And that thought, ultimately, is what makes me let it go.
“When someone says ‘thank you’,” I say, “the appropriate response is ‘you’re welcome’. Not cringing and backing away. If you’re looking for ways to make your presence easier on people around you.”
Kovan pinches the bridge of his nose, which makesmecringe. I know what follows that put-upon expression—
“I suppose kissing you until neither of us can breathe isn’t an appropriate response either,” he says wryly.
—aaand it’s absolutely not that.
The faint amusement on his face vanishes when he sees that I’ve frozen again.
“My sincerest apologies, that was—”
Somehow what emerges from my mouth to interrupt him is: “It might do as a substitute, in certain circumstances.”
Now Kovan freezes.
“Like, maybe not while I’m in the middle of tending a fire, right?” I babble. “Because then I’d get distracted and burn the house down—”
His mouth touches mine.
Everything else in the world goes still for me.
It’s like I can distill this moment: birds chirp in the trees, a background of song; the sun shines down on us, like for onceIam in the spotlight; a gentle breeze flutters around me, touching me, anchoring me in the moment so I can believe it’s real.
Our eyes are both wide open.
I see the flicker of insecurity in his gaze as neither of us move.
So before he can, I do:
Stepping closer to him.
Moving my lips againsthis.
That insecurity turns to something like blank shock, and I have a moment to feel a surge of confidence thatIdid that, to asage, before it occurs to me that maybe he didn’t actuallylikeit—
And then his arms wrap around me and he closes his eyes, as if all he wants is to savor the feeling of me against him, and my own eyes finally flutter shut with his because that’s what I want, too.
The moment is already so perfect, but I am who I am and I can’t help pushing. My tongue meets his lips, and he gasps—
And then draws away.
Before I can rear back, Kovan’s arms tighten around me and he rests his forehead against mine, breathing hard.
I swallow. I need to stop leaping to conclusions with him; need to stop reacting to him as though he’s of a piece with other people. Hehasalready proven that he’s not. In so many ways, he’s not, and not because he’s a sage.
This ismyhabit to break.
