Her arms lift, around me, and her fingers latch in my own night shirt, fists balled against my back. Face pressed to my chest, she battles to contain herself.
She’s over half a foot shorter.
So small, soft, warm…
Everything I have ever wanted, right here.
“Come, dearest,” I murmur. “Let’s get you to bed.”
Fragile breath enters her, but she doesn’t fight me as I bring her toward the fairy lights, move the gauze back, the comforter down, and settle her into the plush warmth. Tucked, she peers at me, royal and frightened, like a princess if ever I’ve seen one.
Moving to the other side of the bed, I settle myself between the sheet and the top blankets before I relax on my side, facing her.
Nose poking above the bedding, she says, “You…aren’t getting in all the way?”
“Why tempt fate more, right?”
“Right…”
Tempting fate more, I lift my hand to her cheek, watch the way her eyelids lower as I trace the shape of her face. My thumb finds her bottom lip, and I go drunk and delirious at the sight.
Morana is in my bed, in our room, a room we’ve spent the past week building together. She smells so sweet. And she’s looking at me…
She’s looking at me like I mean so much to her.
I wish I could write like Viktor, spin something poetic out of thin air to express how much I love her. Or I wish I could sing like Lukas and lull her away from her fears. I wish I could paint like Zakery and forever imprint in her mind the way I see her upon canvases. I wish I had a green thumb like Kaleb and could plant gardens in her honor, building her a sanctuary of flowers, weaving them into her hands and hair.
Pity I just play games in front of live tween audiences.
“Why do you like me?” I ask, soft enough to sound sincere.
Sincere enough for her to forget that she’s not supposed to admit how much she likes me at all.
Glowing, eyes downcast, she whispers, “I just…do. You’re genuine. Funny. Kind. You’re so nonchalant most of the time, but it never escapes me how much you care. You’re not a pretender. You’re honest, to a fault. Gentle…but rough when I least expect it. Like when you threatened Clara’s awful brother.”
I’d forgotten about threatening that dweeb.
Morana’s whole body angles toward mine, getting closer by fractions that cause her limbs to press against me beyond the thin barrier of the sheet between us. “I just like you, okay?”
I scoop her nearer, holding her as tight as I can. “I’m pretty loyal, too.”
She tucks her face against my chest. “Yeah, you are.”
“And I give good hugs.”
She pauses. “What…are we doing right now?”
“Listing my many wonderful traits, and why you’re obsessed with each of them.” Duh.
She lifts her face; it is inches from mine. “Ah, is that so?”
I run my fingers through her hair. “Oh no. She’s become self-aware again. She’s reverting back to denial. Brace for impact.”
Her eyes roll. “While we’re on this stupid topic, why do you like me?”
Where to begin… “You’re funny.”
“Right. I forgot. Humor is really important to you.”
