“What?” Elloven slowed.
“It’s nothing.” He gripped her ass in his palms to urge her back into pace, but he was still distracted. He coaxed her onto all fours, slid underneath her, and turned his focus to something he loved even more. Her soundless gasps... the slow flush lighting her face. He’d give it to her twelve times a day if she wanted it, especially when she asked for it in her shy, sultry timbre. Make me come, Jess had become his favorite fantasy.
He waited for her body to go lax. She’d asked why he always kept going even after she said she was done, and he’d answered with another question. Does it feel better when I do? She’d thought about it and nodded with a slow, radiant smile. I’ve been studying you, Elloven, and I know when you’re done. When you’re not. He’d memorized the path to her release. Her toes would slowly unclench. Her hips would gradually lower. One or two little leg twitches was when he really knew he’d pushed every last button.
Jesstin flipped her onto her back in the grass and traced his slick tongue along her jawline. “My turn,” he said, and this time had no trouble with focus.
After, they carried their clothing to the river. He helped clean her up first. She closed her eyes and smiled. He loved bathing her. She loved to be touched with tenderness and care. He typically had always shrunk away, even from hugs, but with her, it was all he could do to peel himself away. He never wanted to forget the way her hands felt, how her palms burned through his like flames stretching across candles. The complete harmony of her exposed body nestled into his, the perfect cradle.
They hung their clothing to dry and made love again by the river.
The sun was at the zenith of the sky. Illumina was half spent. It meant next to nothing for predicting time, but it was a sign they’d need a havre soon. The last cloister they’d seen had been before the spiral.
“We can dry these wherever we end up.” Elloven gathered the wet garments over her arm. When they’d switched their wardrobes out at the last clothier, they’d each chosen three changes of clothing, an overcoat for storms, and fresh boots. She’d asked to add a nightgown to their order, but Jesstin had told the scandalized shopkeeper she had no need of one.
Then he’d gotten it for her anyway.
What they’d procured had to last until the end, which went for the candles, flint, and other necessities in their overstuffed satchels. They’d started packing food and water for him when his hunger and thirst kicked up, just in case it really was necessary. The only “necessity” they’d disagreed on was a straight razor, but the stubble on his face had been driving him crazy. They’d traded three days’ labor for all of it, and it was more time than he’d been willing to give up. Only after did she remark that she’d been opposed to it because she liked him with a shadow.
Though there was nothing normal about their circumstances, they’d fallen into a pattern together. Everything about it felt easy and natural. At night, they each had their duties. He would start and mind the fire while she assessed their living situation and made them tea. They’d empty their satchels together, examine their inventory, and repack them. Sometimes they’d get lucky and find a place like the one that had the gazebo and courtyard. They never squandered an opportunity to make love under the stars.
All the while, Fabrien kept watch. He’d made no move, so Jesstin upheld his promise, though he could swear the fiend was telling him, You and I are not so different.
He couldn’t deny it. All those weeks living as a newly married couple, making a life in a turbulent world, had given him more contentment and happiness than he’d ever thought possible. It wasn’t his to have though. She wasn’t his to have. Why he continued on, falling harder and deeper every passing day, was a matter for a conscience already depleted.
Their havre that night was a patchy treehouse with questionable construction. There was no safe way to build a fire, but the night was warm enough to go without. Elloven found a place to hang the clothes under an outcrop of stone, and then they climbed to the top of the enclosure and found a spread of old pillows. There they lay together and watched the twilight turn to night.
Jesstin had one arm behind his head, the other cradling hers. “Do you know what I realized?” he asked.
“Mm? What’s that?” She kissed his chest.
“The Night Soul. We haven’t been back since I found you.”
Elloven moved her kisses up his neck, then to his mouth. “Because we haven’t needed it. We can be ourselves out here now. We’re not afraid anymore.”
Jesstin let that thought carry them into a comfortable silence. She was right. He wasn’t guarding his words anymore; she wasn’t fumbling hers. They asked for what they wanted from each other and communicated when those wants were actually needs.
“I’ve been thinking about this spiral. About why it’s a spiral,” she said some while later, her sleepy voice silky. “So much of nature embraces this way of proliferating. It’s efficient and effective. A perfect ratio.”
Jesstin looked down at her. “I have no idea what you just said.”
“Have you not noticed the spirals that appear in nature?”
He shook his head.
“Think of plant leaves. Petals. Cones from the pine trees. Fern fronds. The shell of a snail. The path of a wind squall. Look, look down at your finger.”
“Which one?” He frowned.
“Any of them. Your fingerprint, look at the shape.”
He brought one finger close to his eye, squinting. “Huh. Never considered that the lines had a shape. That’s some coincidence.”
“Not a coincidence at all. Nature’s ratio is based in science, in math.” She sat up, her excitement growing. “Science is mostly math. It’s why there’s so much parity. Math helps answer the whys of science. Here... let me... Ah, it would be easier to explain if I could draw it for you, but imagine this. Imagine a leaf in its conception. Yes?”
Jesstin nodded, completely enthralled.
“A leaf requires what to grow?”
