I folded my arms for the sake of warmth and frowned. "Okay," I said uncertainly.
"I love you," he said abruptly. He took a sharp breath and a step forward. "I love you, Dahlia. And, like you, I do not say those words lightly. It is not easy. It is not easy for me to love someone like you, Dahlia—"
I had been warmed all over by his declaration, but I was now affronted. "What do you mean 'someone like me'—?" I questioned.
"What I mean—" he interrupted, eyebrows raised, "—what I mean is that there is not a second that passes that I do not worry about you. Every time we are apart, I have this knot in my chest. I worry that you are hurt or in trouble or dead and – and it is not easy to live like that."
I bit my lip, unsure of what I was feeling. I felt guilty and happy and I had a ridiculous urge to cry. I said nothing as I stared at his tie because I couldn't meet his eyes.
He continued, "So, when I say someone like you, I mean someone who confronts a psychotic killer by herself and tells me to 'deal with it' when she doesn't even know what it does to me."
Looking down at the grass, I grimaced, regretting my word choice.
"When I found out –" he shook his head in frustration. "When I found out what you had done today, I—"
"I know," I said softly. He had wanted to kill me.
"Yes, well." He paused. The music coming from the tent made a distant thudding sound. "I also realized something else."
"What's that?" I asked, not expecting a positive answer.
"That I do not want to be someone who holds you back. And as much as it worries me, your independence and your courage are the two qualities that I like most about you." He came closer, slowly extending a hand towards my face. His fingers hovered over my bruised cheekbone and my breath caught. "So, as hard as it is, I will 'deal with it'. I cannot guarantee anything, but I will do the best I can."
I let out a shaky laugh. I was beyond touched, the lightest I had felt in a long time, and relieved that he accepted who I was. I suppose I had to accept who he was, too.
"Does that clarify things?" he asked.
Nodding, I took his cool hand in both of mine. "Yes," I exhaled, looking up at him. "I should probably clarify something, too."
"What?" he said gently.
I took a deep breath. "I love you, too," I told him.
His expression was no longer hard to read. I saw his one dimple come out before he swept down and kissed me. I nearly lost my footing but one of his hands skimmed up my arm and gripped me tight on my shoulder while the other slid to cup my face. I wrapped my arms around him, and not realizing how much I wanted to, collapsed into him. He felt so good and smelled so familiar and even though we were both cold, my skin quickly warmed from head to toe. The fabric of his tux underneath my fingers was soft and I gripped it tight.
Despite its perfection, I tried to break the kiss. "People are going to notice that you're missing –"
He didn't let me finish. "It's my birthday," he said, voice deep. He reached for me. "I can do whatever I want." He pulled me back into him and kissed me as I laughed.
* * *
We danced until my feet hurt so much that I had to take my heels off. As I walked back onto the dance floor, barefoot and smiling, Callum had plucked a red dahlia out of one of the table settings and tucked it behind my ear.
During a particularly slow song, Liam had taken the opportune moment to cut in. It was considerably awkward as we held each other at a distance like two freshmen at the homecoming dance. When he made fun of the way I danced, though, I threatened him with knock-knock jokes, and we quickly settled back into our comfortable habit of insulting each other.
The cake had indeed survived the bombs. It was ten tiers high, impeccable with cream cheese frosting and twenty-nine candles. Only a handful of people knew Callum was turning a great deal older than twenty-nine. After we sang 'happy birthday' and the cake was cut, no one noticed Callum slip me his piece. No one noticed when we slipped away to make out in the pantry, either. Well, no one except for Liam, Lester, Ophelia, Raven, and the rest of the security personnel, but I was okay with that.
I went back to work on Monday. It felt good to be back to normal. My arm was healing nicely and the bruise on my cheek had faded. I even welcomed the paperwork and the gruffness of Ayden Montgomery who told me I had used up all my sick days and gave me an assignment no one else wanted. Alexander and Veronica told me that I seemed different, but couldn't come up with an explanation as to why.
Will was discharged from the hospital on Thursday. I almost knocked on his door, but decided to obey his wishes and left him alone. We ran into each other in the cereal aisle at the supermarket and he gave me a nod, his left eye still unable to open all the way. I smiled back. I think we were both reassured to see the other alive.
There had been no news of Thanatos. Word was that he was still in Europe. We were exceptionally careful, constantly on the lookout, and Callum, Liam, and the others were taking turns with me to test the Letalis Flora. I pushed its limits, experimented with how much power I actually had over it, and slowly, I began to understand it better. It finally felt like a part of me. I had barely touched the surface of it, but that was better than nothing.
I saw Callum every night once the sun set. Sometimes he cooked dinner for me in my kitchen as I watched, happy and relaxed and quite in awe of him. He told me stories of his past; hesitantly at first, but opened up when he saw I was listening intently and without judgment. We would fall into bed – sometimes in a heated frenzy, sometimes in a slow, deliberate way – and he would hold me tight against his chest as I fell asleep. He always stayed until the sky started to lighten, unwrapping himself from me and kissing my forehead before he gently closed the door and disappeared into the remainder of the night.
* * *
The call came just as I had settled down on the couch with my feet up, a cup of Earl Grey tea in my hand as I opened a new book to its first crisp page. It was Liam.
"Bad news, sunshine," he said.
"What is it?" I asked.
"Thanatos is back."
I sat up and snapped the book shut. So much for that.
* * *
THE END
Death of Night Page 48