For the past few days, Castor has been a bit off. The day after movie night, he told me he had some business to take care of, and though I thought it strange he wasn’t inviting me with him to go LARPing, I figured perhaps he needed to remember that there were people who liked to play withhimwithout his soulmate.
Judging by the distress he faced the entire time he was gone, and the fact Zahra answered my “is Castor LARPing with you guys” text with “no,” I’ve since come to the conclusion that I…have no idea whatbusinesshe was talking about. To further my worry, he refused to elaborate when he returned home, insisting that it would be safer for me not to know.
Safer.
Notbetter.
Safer.
My soulmate left for an entire afternoon to do something dangerous, and I don’t have a clue what it was or how to lift his morose attitude now that he’s back.
Logic demands I recognize that the fae world is vast, and I’m still new to so much of it. Logic demands I understand that Castor has been around for ages and likely knows of many things I’d be safer not toying with. Logic demands Ilet it goin the name of a healthy relationship with boundaries. Logic demands I trust that my soulmate will sort through his feelings maturely on his own.
Needless to say, no logic entirely dictated the actions I have found myself performing in lieu of all those good and healthy suggestions.
Shock, surprise, interest, confusion.
I smile as the delightful melody of emotions dance along the threads of our soul bond, immediately raising Castor from the consternation he’s been stuck in since Friday. Personally, I think I’ve been very good and patient, waiting an entire weekend before acting on my impulse to perform surgery.
Ever since he came back forlorn and afflicted, I’ve wanted to cut inside him, reach the knot of duress, and pull it free.
Now, I am doing just that.
And I have to say, it’s already working wonders on his mood!
Step aside, Pollux. There’s a new doctor in town.
“My feather…” Castor murmurs, heart fluttering in the quiet hall where I’ve professionally confronted him. “You’ve…stabbed me.”
“Yup!” I chirp, and contemplate whether or not he’d enjoy it if I twist the knife.
Heart skipping a joyous little beat, he skates his fingers against my hand and over the hilt of my weapon. “Is this…my favorite dagger?”
“I went to Willow’s while you were directing progress on the aqueducts. She was reading. I said, ‘I’m going to rob you.’ She said, ‘Don’t take my books.’ I didn’t take her books.”
Positively charmed, Castor smiles at me, wraps his hand around mine, and drags me closer, urging the blade deeper. A half-pained, half-delirious sound combines in his throat, tantalizing and teasing. Voice low, he flirts, “I suppose I have been slacking on your lessons for the past few days. Forgive me, my love. Shall we take this somewhere a touch more…personal?”
Before I can answer, he’s already guiding me up the hall and into the quiet study I remember getting drunk in, so very long ago. It hardly seems right that only weeks have passed since then. Everything before the here and now feels a universe away.And I couldn’t be more glad for the endless distance between me and the world I once knew.
After getting settled by the couch in the room, Castor pops the knife out of his side, and I jerk, certain rule one of a stab wound isnotto remove the knife until the blood is ready to be staunched.
Castor’s hand snatching mine is the only thing that keeps me from stabbing myself in the face out of shock when hestrips.
Deeply concerned, he says, “Gracious. What’s the matter?”
What’s the matter?
What isthe matter?
The matter is he’s bleeding, everywhere, all over hisbare skin. A second after breaking rule one of having a stab wound, he dropped his robes off his shoulders, leaving them to settle at his hips, baring his chest, shoulders, biceps, forearms…
He’s absolutely beautiful.
Even with the ugly red and gushing wound piercing his firm stomach.
He’s all pretty muscle and paper-pale flesh.
And I’m about to touch him so deeply my magic will lace his cells.
