“He can confide in me. Of course, he must know that he can.”
“Someone who will make himself vulnerable to him, even if it’s uncomfortable. Even if they’re scared.”
I grumbled, not wanting to admit Xavier was right. But there were so many concerns plaguing you right now. I didn’t want to be yet another problem that needed solving.
Or maybe that was just me making excuses.
“How’s my father?”you asked when I returned to our rooms later that night. You were sitting naked on the bed, toweling off your hair. It was to your shoulders now. Every time you’d threatened to cut it, I managed to convince you not to.
“He’s well.”
“And have you made your confessions?” you asked, your ability to read me both uncanny and frightening.
“Nothing of consequence,” I said idly.
“Nothing of consequence,” you repeated in a flat tone.
“How was your bath?” I asked, changing the subject.
“Relaxing. Are you coming to bed?”
I took a deep breath and went over to the window where I could just make out the shapes of my islands, silhouetted by the full moon; they glittered on the water and beckoned to me. How I wished we were there right now, away from all of this, never having to return.
“Henri, what’s wrong?” Your hand caressed my shoulder, and though your naked body tempted me, seduction was not your aim.
“There are so many things that I want.”
“Tell me.”
“I want to be strong for you.” Since losing my immortality, I’d begun to think of my lifespan in mortal terms, decades instead of millennia. The changes a human body must endure. How the skin wrinkles, muscles lose their strength, and bones become brittle, breakable even. The idea of you watching me degenerate while you remained strong and virile made me hopelessly sad. Clearly, I’d inherited some of Lena’s vanity.
“Are you not strong?” you asked, sensing the melancholia in my mood.
“I may not always be this way.” I placed your hand to my mouth, resting my lips against your knuckles.
You studied me, thoughtful, then said, “I would love you if you were weak, if you were ill, if you were old…” My throat caught on the last bit. “Remember when I came back from prison? I’d been changed by that experience. I was scared and timid and sick, and you took care of me.”
“It was a gift to be able to do so.”
“Then wouldn’t it be the same for me? To express my love for you in that way. I know you feel pressure to be strong for me, indestructible even, but we can take turns. I want to be strong for you too.”
Your arms wrapped around my waist and your cheek pressed against my back like a gentle reassurance.
“What are you afraid of, Henri?” you murmured
I cleared my throat and was reluctant to say it out loud, though the darkness helped. “Losing you.”
“That will never happen,” you assured me. “I’m yours for life.”
I believed you. I only wished I could offer you the same.
