"Always," I smiled, curious.
He held out his hand, palm up, and concentrated. Tiny motes of necromantic energy began to gather above his skin, purple-blue and softly glowing. As I watched, fascinated, the motes took shape, forming delicate, translucent butterflies that fluttered above his palm.
"Ghost butterflies," his face lighting up with childlike delight. "One of the first necromantic tricks I learned. They're not actually ghosts, more like energy given temporary form."
The butterflies danced through the air between us, their wings leaving trails of sparkling light. One landed on my nose, its touch like the whisper of a cool breeze, before taking flight again.
I laughed, genuinely delighted. "Milo, they're beautiful."
"I used to make them when I was scared," he admitted, watching the butterflies with a fond expression. "In the foster homes, or when the other kids at the Academy would pick on the weird kid. They reminded me that beautiful things can come from dark places."
The butterflies began to fade, their energy dissipating back into the air. Milo sighed, leaning back against the couch cushions, clearly tired from even this small display of magic.
"You shouldn't be using your energy," I scolded gently. "You need to rest."
"Worth it to see you smile," he shrugged. "Besides, it was just a little magic. No raising the dead or anything."
I studied his face, noting the shadows under his eyes, the slight tremor in his hands. "Are you scared, Milo? Really?"
The question seemed to catch him off guard. His usual sunny expression faltered, revealing something more vulnerable beneath. "Only of not being useful enough to keep you safe.Everyone else has these amazing powers or skills. Rook's a werewolf, Zane's been hunting demons for centuries, Fenric knows everything about everything... and I'm just the guy who talks to skeletons."
My heart broke a little at his words. I reached out, cupping his face in my hands. "You already do keep me safe. Every single day."
His eyes widened slightly, surprise and hope warring in their depths. "I do?"
"Of course you do. Your necromancy saved Horrace. Your quick thinking has gotten us out of countless situations. But more than that, you keep me sane, Milo. You remind me to laugh, to find joy even when everything is falling apart."
He leaned into my touch, his eyes never leaving mine. "Winter..."
I didn't let him finish. Instead, I closed the distance between us, pressing my lips to his in a slow, deliberate kiss. Unlike our first desperate kiss after the Void Eater, this one was gentle, an affirmation rather than a reaction to danger.
Milo responded immediately, his hands coming up to tangle in my hair as he kissed me back with surprising intensity. He tasted like mint and something sweet, maybe apple, his lips soft against mine. The kiss deepened naturally, both of us seeking more connection, more closeness.
When we finally broke apart, Milo's eyes were wide, his breathing uneven. "Wow. That was even better than the first time."
I smiled, resting my forehead against his. "Practice makes perfect."
He laughed softly, then his expression grew more serious. "Winter, I... I should tell you something before this goes any further."
"What is it?" I pulled back slightly to see his face better.
"I've never... I mean, I haven't..." he fumbled, cheeks flushing. "Kissing is about as far as I've gone. With anyone."
Understanding dawned. "I know. "
He blushed, looking both embarrassed and determined. "I know it's probably weird at my age, but between the foster homes and then the Academy and then the Bureau, there just wasn't ever the right person or the right time and…"
I silenced his rambling with another soft kiss. "It's not weird, Milo. And it doesn't change anything."
"It doesn't?" The hope in his voice made my heart ache.
"Not unless you want it to," I assured him, stroking his cheek. "We can go as slow as you need. Or stop right here. Whatever feels right to you."
Milo captured my hand, turning it to press a kiss to my palm. "I don't want to stop," he admitted. "I just... I don't want to disappoint you. I know you've been with Zane, and probably, maybe, Rook, and they're so experienced and confident and…"
"Hey," I cut him off gently. "This isn't a competition. And I'm not looking for perfection, Milo. I'm looking for you. Just you, exactly as you are."
His eyes searched mine, looking for any sign of hesitation or pity. Finding none, he took a deep breath. "I want this. I want you. If you want me too."
