Let’s just say anime’s taught me a great deal, but I have never before been inclined to consider practicing anything I’ve learned…until her.
As I rest my forehead against hers, I find myself smiling. Further heat rises to my cheeks. Unbidden, peace swells, and my eyes close. I murmur, “Have you gathered the information you need?”
“I think so.”
“How are we going to definepermission, then?”
“I trust you.”
My heart hits my ribs, and I open my eyes as my smile evaporates. “What?”
“You have my permission to follow your heart. Touch me however you deem appropriate.”
What?I search her eyes. “You… That’s a dangerous statement, isn’t it?”
“I did saydangerwas a vital part of an enemies-to-lovers plot, didn’t I?”
“How can you trust someone you barely know?”
She lifts a shoulder. “It feels like I’ve known you longer than I have. Must be my author’s intuition. You have a…safe archetype about you.”
I balk. “People can’t usually be trimmed down into an archetype, August.”
“They can’t?”
“And, despite that, people can make excellent pretenders.”
“Yet you’re being very genuine and protective in your wariness about me as it relates to this situation. I see things like that, Dominic. You’re a caring person. You’re also a committed one. If my brother likes you, and it’s clear that he does, that means you embody traits he values. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but he’s kind of prickly as a person. He rarely openly likes people. And you want to know something else?”
“Always.”
“I’ve never been hurt.”
My brow furrows.
“I’m an excellent judge of character. I might not pick up on many nuances and I’m a trainwreck in most social situations, but I’ve never been emotionally hurt by someone before. I’ve never made a bad choice where it concerns the people I trust, and the people I don’t trust can’t touch me because I don’t give them that power. You’re kind. I can tell.” Her fingers unlatch from around mine, and she slips away, turning to face me once she’s halfway out of the kitchen and I’m painfully aware how cold it is here without her. Pushing her hair back, shesays, “Whetherkindnessreally matters much in this story is something we’ll have to find out, though.” Her smile steals my heart anew. “I’m looking forward to it.”
Sighing, I set the pizza scissors down, tuck my hands in my pockets, and offer her a sheepish look. “I have a terrible feeling you’re going to make me worry a great deal about you in the following chapters.”
She laughs. “Yes, well. Obviously.” Her skirt flares when she spins back toward her office. “That’s the male lead’s role where it concerns a chaotic sunshine main character. She skips ahead, wild abandon incarnate, and he worries for her. If you’re already regretting this, do let me know. It’s never too late to choose a different path for the story of your life.”
“I’m not regretting this even a little bit,” I say.
“Well then.” She tosses a look back at me.
I stay right where I am. “Are you?”
Softly, she lets her fingers graze her throat, then she grins. “Not at all. Shall we continue our first draft?”
Gracefully submissive, I lower my head and lay my hand to my hammering heart. “As my author wishes.”
?
Snuggled up in my casket, with the full printed list of August’s and my guidelines completed, I whisper a swear and stare at the laptop propped on my legs beside the sheets.
Given the emotional roller coaster I’ve been entertaining for the past few days, I convinced myself that taking justoneweekend off from work wouldn’t be the end of the world. Unfortunately, it seems that shirking my duties has resulted in August assuming I’m dead.
As depicted in an email, where she asks if I’m dead, and the follow-up instant message she sent me yesterday afternoon:
