Gavrail says nothing. Only his shadow shifts—the faintest ripple across the floor.
“Oh, stay,” Stella purrs, gesturing to the empty seats beside them. “We don’t bite.”
I give her a brittle smile. “Another time. Enjoy your meal.”
At our table, I find myself turning into someone else—laughing too loudly, telling stories that don’t matter, touching Noa’s hand too often. Bright conversation. Too many teeth. A puppet on a stage, giving a performance.
I hate Gavrail for making me feel this way, but I hate myself more for letting him.
I order dessert I don’t want. Wine I don’t need. Coffee I’ll never finish.
The waiter approaches with our check before setting down two slim flutes, the liquid inside a soft blush pink that seems to glow in the candlelight. “On the house for Valentine’s Day,” he explains. “A Corazon cordial—rose, hawthorn, cassia.”
I’ve read about Corazon. Not a potion, exactly—closer to a charm in liquid form. Said to stir the blood, to coax the heart closer to whatever it already leans toward. Dragging hidden things to the surface like a tide pulling secrets from the deep. Half folklore, half alchemy.
Noa clinks his glass lightly against mine, and drinks without hesitation. I only wet my lips, tasting sweetness edged with spice, my eyes drawn, unwillingly, across the room. Stella is drinking hers. I wait, throat tight, watching to see if Gavrail drinks his. It stays untouched on his table. His gaze flicks toward me just once, catching my stare before I look away.
We stay until the last of the patrons disappear into the winter night, Stella and Gavrail among them.
As they get up to leave, Gavrail gives me a small nod—barely there.
But it feels like someone pressing on a bruise I forgot I even had, a small ache I don’t let anyone see.
* * *
Later,as Noa and I walk back beneath the stars, I pull my coat tighter around myself to protect from the chill that isn’t just in the air. The tension between us feels heavier than the snow.
“That was stupid,” I finally mutter, my voice small, brittle around the edges.
Noa glances sideways at me, but he doesn’t say anything. His silence presses down on me harder than his words ever could.
I close my eyes for a moment before opening them again as I exhale. “Iwas stupid.”
I stop then, my breath puffing out in the cold air, a cloud that dissipates too quickly to make any difference. I want to speak, to explain, but the words catch in my throat. I swallow, trying to push past the lump forming there, but it doesn’t work.
“I…” I begin, my voice trailing off. I drop my eyes to the ground, avoiding his.
Shame crawls up my neck, hot and suffocating. I should’ve known better. I should’ve?—
“I didn’t know seeing him with her would make me feel like that,” I say at last. “I didn’t know I’d still feel something like that. I’m sorry, Noa.”
I feel the heat of his gaze on me, but I can’t bring myself to look at him just yet.
He exhales slowly, the sound soft, almost like a sigh of relief. He stops and turns to face me, his gaze flicking to my hand justonce before meeting my eyes. “Cel, whatever you once were to each other—I don’t care. Because Iknowwhat you are to me.”
And there it is, the trust in his eyes that both breaks and makes me at the same time. Because this… this isreal.
I want to say more, but instead, he takes my hand in his—impossibly warm against the cold—and I hold on. Not out of performance this time, but honesty. Because jealousy is the cruel twin of love—both born from wanting what burns too bright to truly see.
We walk the rest of the way back to the inn, the lanterns throwing soft gold across the snow.
Inside our room, Noa’s thumb grazes the sapphire ring on my knuckle. He inhales—then looks up. “It’s his, isn’t it?”
My breath leaves me in a slow, painful spill. I don’t deny it. I can’t.
“Yes,” I answer. But the word seems too small for the silence it fills.
His mouth tightens, then he nods once, like he’s making a choice. “I meant what I said earlier. You are allowed to have a past.” His voice lowers. “I only care about your future—because I have every intention of being in it.”
