My inconsolable ball ofcaring about othersis beautiful, and I’m not accepting any criticism about it.
What I’d like to know is how I’ve not realized that I’ve gained weight. The fact I’m fuller and softer is rather apparent now that it’s been brought to my attention, but before that? I was oblivious.
I guess I’ve been sofreedfrom needing to worry about how I look, the only time I’ve bothered thinking about it at all is when I’ve made direct clothing requests. But, even then, the magicclothes that Castor forms right on my body,formy body, never suggest that I in any way need to change myself to fit them.
“Do you…like this weight on me?” I ask.
“Very much so.”
That’s it, then. That’s all that matters.
“Doyoulike the way you feel?” Castor asks, as though his perception of me is not all that matters in any shape or form. “You must have more energy than you used to. Is your body and mind working for you in a way that brings you comfort? I want you content in your skin. If you are not, we must address that before it feeds on the damage your mother has done on your mind where it concerns how you look.”
There’s been so much going on lately, I haven’t exactly had any spare moments to contemplate these sorts of things. As a means to survive the demand of being a model, I spent a lot of time cutting my mind off from what my body was feeling or asking for. I’ve had to do shoots in winter for summer lines. I’ve had to pretend that I’m not freezing, or tired, or hungry so much I’ve lost touch with some of those things.
Or I had.
Before very recently.
Before Castor has let mefeelagain, going so far as to let me ask him to fix whatever discomforts me.
Happy, I settle in closer to my soulmate. “Yep, can confirm. I amverycomfortable in my skin these days.”Especiallywhen he’s dappling it with kisses.
Chuckling, he traces the line of my spine up until he reaches my hair. “Perfect.” He combs his fingers through my blond waves. “I’ve been disregarding you for long moments, Mine. Reprimand my negligence. Punish me with kisses or cuts, the sensation of your nails in my flesh.”
I bite my lip and maintain my smile. “We both know that’s hardly a punishment for you.”
His thumb slips against my palm as he brings my fingers to his lips. “Pity. You’ve caught me. What do you deem an appropriate admonition, then?”
I’d love to hedge discussion on any progress toward a cure for his eyes and how I can help, but after the fiasco with Pollux and how tender all the emotions revolving around that are, I refrain. “It’s not really a punishment, but I would like a magic lesson.”
“A magic lesson!” he declares, kissing my palm. “What excellent fun. You reward me for my bad behavior, and I do adore you for it. What game of magic shall we play tonight, my feather?”
Thinking for a moment, I finally decide on: “Theft.”
His emotions leap, then settle, and adjust reasonably. As though he is notthrilledby the notion of robbery, he asks, calmly, “Theft? Do elaborate, darling, lest I assume you wish to practice pulling my soul from my body and subjecting it to your bidding.”
Maybe we can do thattomorrow, although I’m fairly certain it would not be too terribly hard.
For the sake of clarification, I say, “I’d like to steal your knife back from Willow.” Gently and sweetly, I tease my lips against his, “ThenI’d like to stab you with it so I can practice healingotherpeople.”
Wasting not even an instant, he scoops me up like I’ve not gained a single pound and stands, marching toward the stairs leading out of his private study in the belly of our home. “Yes. A thousand times yes. What an incredible curriculum you’ve devised, my dearest flame.” He begins rambling about how fun it might be if I learn quickly enough to begin practicing the reassembly of complex organs this week, which would be something of a miracle, considering we’ve but three days left in it.
That is to say…it is Thursday.
Chapter 35
~~~~~~~~~~~~
At last,movie night.
“My love,” Castor says, hand crushing mine as we stand before a home that isincrediblyactive at the moment. Lights glow in the windows, warmth rampant, laughter trickling out to meet us. “Mayhaps a different night we shall indulge in theft, hm? I’ve many other knives, none myfavorite, but they are sharpened and shall make swift work of me. I even have an array of swords. You could skewer me entirely. Wouldn’t that be fun?”
“What’s this aboutskeweringpeople?” an oddly familiar voice behind us asks with some amount of apprehension.
Castor stiffens as we both turn to find a woman with long brunette hair in a butter yellow dress and…Doliver. From dolivers_not_trending, the insanely popular music channel on both YouTube and Leopard.
My eyes widen as my mouth falls open. Doliver…is a faerie. That’s wild news. But I suppose his patch-worked vitiligo skin does present a beauty that leans remarkably toward fantasy. He’s always been gorgeous, just like his voice. It almost figures he’s not human.
