“Monday. I need time to do some clothes shopping. Ardusian’s assistant is a dragon and wears a shirt and tie. This is my single dress-up outfit.”
“Makes sense,” Pyxlevir replied with a nod. Gramlithyn wasn’t sure why, but it pleased him that Pyxlevir didn’t suggest elven attire. It’d been years since Gramlithyn had worn tunicsand loose pants, and he’d grown more comfortable in other options. “I was thinking about the apartment.”
“What about it?”
“Well, we asked the twins to move out of their parents’ house, and we have Dasan there too. We need to honor our agreement and hang out together…the five of us. What do you think about having dinner together? At least on the weekdays because I know the twins are going to keep heading home for a meal or two on the weekend.”
“We should’ve been doing that from the beginning. I’m surprised none of them demanded it, given the whole situation and what they’ve agreed to.”
“You’ve been avoiding me.”
“Yes.”
“I’m glad you stopped. You worried me yesterday.”
Gramlithyn nodded. He’d spent the entire day in his room or in zebra form. “I needed some thinking time. To settle everything. Sorry if I made you second-guess anything, I got stuck in my own head.”
“Interesting. As a kid, you liked to pretend you were calm and collected. But you worried about everything. If we were sneaking beers, for example, you’d drink half as much as I did because you’d be envisioning scenarios of being caught or me getting yelled at after you went home.”
“Did I?”
“Please, you know you did,” Pyxlevir countered. “How many times did I urge you to relax?”
“Maybe I had to worry because you were always flirting with danger. If I’d been more daring, we’d probably be sharing a jail cell right now.”
Pyxlevir laughed. “I haven’t done anything outrageous in years. Maybe I’ve matured.”
“I’m counting on it.”
“At least you still have a sense of humor.”
“And apparently, you’ve stayed weird.”
“I’m a D’Vaire,” Pyxlevir said. “Weird is my favorite compliment.”
“Then I take it back because I’m not in the mood to compliment you. Not after you called me a worrywart who can’t relax enough to have fun.”
“Who knows, maybe you’re different now.”
“I thought I’d cultivated an entirely new adult version of myself, but you’ve dashed my hopes in our first normal conversation since I returned.”
“Gramlithyn, stop calling me or anything I do normal. That’s gross.”
For reasons Gramlithyn couldn’t pinpoint, a sudden urge to weep hit him. Only he wasn’t sad. Quite the opposite. Nothing had ever felt as wonderful as talking to Pyxlevir. Even before Fate had paired them, Pyxlevir had been his favorite person. The heartbreak of believing Pyxlevir hated the thought of a future with him hadn’t managed to change that.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but I missed you.”
The humor fell from Pyxlevir’s face, and his expression sobered as they stared at each other in the crowded restaurant. “I missed you too, idiot. Next time you run off without explaining anything to me, I’m calling Alaric. I’ll beg the Lich Sentinel to gather up every available sentinel and scour the earth for you. You’ll have no choice but to face me, and I’ll poke and prod you until you explain yourself.”
“I don’t think the sentinels will let you torture me. But that won’t be necessary. I’ve learned my lesson. Communication is vital.”
“I disagree. Pretty sure Alaric will let me do whatever I want given the situation, but I appreciate your assurance that my tactics will be unnecessary.”
“I hope working in the same building will let us have lunch occasionally.”
“Count on it. The only people I have lunch with now are my parents, and that’s not every day. But on those days, you can still join us.”
The idea of being around Pyxlevir’s parents was daunting. Although he’d once been comfortable running through their house as easily as his own, the heavy weight of his decisions had affected every aspect of his life.
