“I would like to rename her something that meansprincess.”
“Shame. She’s Billy. And you are tired and hungry, which take precedence above all other things in this instant.” I scoopmyprincess up in my arms, cradle her to my chest, and kiss her sweet angelic face. “You’ve worked so hard,” I murmur. “What a good girl. Cease fighting my praise and allow me to spoil you until I am content, drowning you in pleasure and gratitude until the weakness in your poor body stems from an entirely different source. Let me kiss every inch of your flesh and whisper my thanks in your ears until you are helpless with ecstasy, only knowing endlessly how deeply you are loved—not merely for the blessings you have given me nor the fullness you have poured into my life…but for everything that you are.”
She shivers and grips the collar of my robes.
“I cannot express myself articulately enough on these matters, Danielle.” I swallow, hard. “I have dreamed of the things you have made reality for me over these past few days. I have wished and begged for some manner of deity to grant me the kindness of just one companion. And, now, I have dear friends, you, and a home overflowing with wonderful, gloriouspandemonium. Tha—”
“No,” she whispers, cutting my gratitude short. “Please. I don’t want to pass out yet. It’s one thing for you to carry me past everyone while I’m barely conscious and another for you to do it while I’m out cold.”
I chuckle. “Very well. As my light and flame requests, I shall hold my tongue until after you are safe and cozy and full. Then…I make no promises on how I might let my soul play against yours.”
Bliss fills her, and I feel it reflected in every inch of myself.
Quietly, I slip us past crimson gremlins settling in around a roasting boar that the designated hunting team caught earlier. Upon reaching our home, I waste no time making my way to the parlor nearest the kitchen I primarily use. There, I place my whole heart on the couch, run my fingers through the waves of her hair, and let the peace of the moment warm me.
If only this could last forever. If only the fear of ruining everything would stay far away. If only I weren’t a walking weapon. If only…
“Castor,” my feather murmurs, “stop spiraling.”
“Sorry.” I swallow the rising emotion. “It’s difficult to stay aloft on the highs sometimes when I recall that they have not always—and, in fact, have rarely—been.”
Her hand draws mine to her cheek, holding my fingers there against her warmth. “You aren’t going to ruin this.”
“What bold words based in such inane optimism.”
“Castor.”
My heart settles, bracing against the severity of her tone. I’d apologize—if I could. But I find myself unable to be sorry for something I believe to be wholly true.
“You aren’t going to ruin this,” she repeats, so steadily, so full of conviction. “No matter what happens out there, you have me, and I have you, right?”
Breathing becomes quite difficult. “Yes, my love. But what I fear most is that I might make some grand mistake where it concerns you.”
“It’s too late for me. I’m so damaged I’d want you through just about anything at this point.”
Yes. I know. But the horrible side effect of loving you is wanting better than that for you. Even if we become worse, I want you to love it. I want you happy. I want to be just selfless enough to give you everything. Always. Because you deserve everything. Always.
Falling harder, each day, for her has made the convoluted contradictions of my wishes and emotions all so painful to parse through.
A small sound leaves her, and her grip on my hand tightens. “What aren’t you saying to me?”
A laugh gets stuck in my chest, leaving my lungs twisted in agony. Hoarse and soft, I say, “Many things, Mine.” Many things I am afraid to try and say, for the terror that they might not actually be true, and I’ll discover—with horror—that I donotactually wish to be selfless enough for her sake.
And then she’d know.
And it would all come apart.
Because she would realize that I am both unworthy of love…and of loving.
A touch of unnerve slithers its way to me, and she says, “Is this magic of soulmates not powerful enough to make everything right?”
Forcing air into me, I say, “It pairs two hearts that match one another perfectly, but that does not mean I am free to willfully shirk all effort. Love is an action. I cannot sit idly and expect you to experience it.”
“I think, probably, it’s exactly those sorts of beliefs that ensure there is nothing you would ever do that would ruin anything between us. You can’t lie. You have to believe what you’ve just said. And, so long as you do, I have forgiven so many people who have never ever thought to waste their effort on loving me. I am certain it would be easy to forgive you.”
“I am sure your forgiveness would be easily abused again, yes. Your heart is made of liquid gold and your soul the notes that angels sing. You would forgive me easily of many a crime…but then what am I to do with the guilt? With the shame? With the knowledge that I cannot help but keep hurting my soulmate? You are the creature I have begged and pleaded for…the one I have cursed the whole of the universe on account of withholding from me… In broken hours, I have begged that if given the chance, I would do everything in my power to take care of you. I have sworn it to the heavens. I have screamed it into the ground after falling to my knees. No part of this relationship do I take lightly, Danielle, so my fear remains as steady as my joy.”
Turning her face, she kisses my palm. “Am I a bad soulmate for appreciating the way you torment yourself for my sake?”
