Everything feels fresh and full of promise, like new beginnings.
“I like the dress,” Ares says, his fingers skimming over the fabric around my waist.
I gaze up at him. “Of course you do.”
“This too,” he says, tugging at the black velvet bow in my hair. “And this,” he says, hands drifting down to my jaw, tilting my chin gently up toward him. The cuts in his knuckles have almost healed, I notice, the dark red scars fading into a pinkish color. No new bruises, no blood.
“I think you like everything about me,” I murmur against his lips.
“You think so?”
“I’m actually certain of it,” I amend, and pull away, teasing, before he can kiss me.
“You do make it very, very difficult not to like everything about you,” he agrees.
I’m biting back a ridiculous grin as I cast my eyes on the lake. The pale moonlight ripples over the surface, and out of habit, my stomach tenses, dreading what future might form from the murky shapes, but the water doesn’t change. The house fire, thesmoke, the destruction—all of it is gone now, as if the vision had never existed in the first place. You can only see the liquid reflections of the lamps, and the two of us, standing side by side, the red of my dress the closest thing to flames.
“Isn’t it so strange?” I murmur, and I don’t have to say more than that. He knows exactly what I’m thinking.
“Very,” he says. “Sometimes I think I made it all up inside my head. If it weren’t for you... I would’ve thought I’d lost my grip on reality ages ago.”
“Do you reckon anyone else will see a vision like we did? If maybe—maybe there are more lakes out there similar to this one? Or if maybe it isn’t about the lake at all. Maybe it’s the moonlight.”
“Maybe it’s all of it. The exact combination—the place, the timing. You and me,” he says, with a readiness that makes it clear he’s been wondering about it too, drawing up his own theories that can never be tested. He pauses. Looks over at me, his gaze catching on the burn scar underneath my collarbone, his face tightening like it’s been seared into his own flesh. “Chanel... I’m still really, really sorry.”
“Sorry? What’s there to be sorry about?”
“I just...” He swallows. Shakes his head. “You shouldn’t have had to go through that. Every time I remember it... how close you were to—”
“But you saved me,” I remind him. “And besides, it’s all in the past now, isn’t it?”
The past.I can barely believe it, even when I say the words out loud. The worst has happened, and somehow we survived it, and we’re both here.
“How’s your brother these days, by the way?” I ask Ares, deliberately changing the subject before he can sink too deep into his own guilt. I don’t know if anything I say can ever convince him to forgive himself, even if I’ve remained adamant that there’s nothing to forgive.
“Luke is... adjusting,” Ares says. “I’ve enrolled him at Airington, and he should be ready to start classes next semester. It’s just that he hasn’t been to school in so long.... He hasn’t said anything about it, but I think he’s a little nervous.”
“Luke’s so smart, I bet he’s going to be at the top of his class in no time,” I say. “I can already see him fitting in; he can be Airington’s next genius, after Henry Li graduates.”
“Those are pretty big shoes to fill,” he says.
“I mean, nobody can replaceHenry Li. But trust me, being smart will get him far. And if anyonedoesgive him a hard time, I’ll step in.”
His expression softens, the line of his mouth loosening. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. Though I doubt I’d need to, when everyone’s already terrified of you.”
“You’re not terrified of me,” he points out.
“That’s because you’re my boyfriend,” I say. This has the exact effect I wanted. His eyes turn to molten amber, some bright emotion flickering across his features, and the curve of his smile is almost shy, even though he’s had three weeks to get used to this.
Part of me had thought that maybe he wouldn’t ask me outright. He was, after all, already doing everything a boyfriendwould, and more. While I was still stuck in the hospital, he visited every day with fresh flowers and fruit baskets. He was the one who thought to bring me my favorite brand of face masks, who bought a scented lychee plush toy to keep me company at night, though I barely needed it, because he’d stay with me all the way until I fell asleep. Then, once the bandages came off and I was finally given permission to go anywhere I wanted, he went everywhere with me; he took me shopping again, carried my bags in the hand that wasn’t holding mine, dutifully followed me through dozens of stores, waited for me to try on dress after dress without the slightest hint of impatience. And when one of the retail assistants started unabashedly flirting with him, he’d turned to me, grabbed my waist, and kissed me until my jaw unclenched and the jealousy in my stomach dissolved. I could feel him smiling when I pulled away.
“What was that for?” I’d asked.
“To make it clear that I’m yours,” he murmured into my ear. “And because I wanted to. Are those good enough reasons?”
“Maybe,” I allowed, fighting to keep my facial muscles in check so he couldn’t see how hopelessly, absurdly happy those few simple sentences made me.
