Page 149 of Godless Saints

A flashlight beam cut across us. Heavy footsteps.

“Hold it.” The guard’s voice was flat, tired. “You’re not Aster, Ashbourne. Get off the grounds.”

I lifted my head from Cillian’s shoulder, blinking slow. “He’sh… with me. S’fine. Ev’rything’s fine. Path’s stupid anyway.”

Cillian hitched me higher on his back. “Just getting him to his room. Then I’m gone.”

The guard hesitated, eyes flicking over my slumped form, then Cillian’s steady stance.

He exhaled hard. “Fine. Get him inside and get out. Don’t make me write this up.”

Cillian didn’t wait for more. He adjusted me higher on his back and kept walking, boots quiet on the path.

I pressed my face into his neck again, humming. “See? Optics're stupid... but you're good at 'em.”

We finally reached my door. Cillian shifted my weight and fished in my pockets for the keys. Fingers brushed warm against my hip. The penguin keychain jingled.

“Tha’ one,” I mumbled, head lolling. “You put the shamrock on it… an’ the crescent moon. Look. They fit together like… like this.” I tried to gesture with one clumsy hand, mashing my fingers so the shamrock and moon pressed together. “See? They’re… s’posed to.”

Cillian’s mouth twitched. “Yeah… that’s… sure, prince.”

He got the door open, hauled me inside, and eased me down onto the bed. His hands moved efficiently, shoes off, jacket, shirt. Cool air hit my skin.

“Let’s have sex,” I slurred, reaching for him.

Cillian caught my wrist gently. “I think you’re too drunk for that. You need to sleep.”

I grabbed at his shirt instead, tugging hard. “But then you sleep here. You’re Aster now. Off’cially. Congratu…lations.” The words tangled badly. “Sleep naked. Like me.”

A rough laugh escaped him. “If I sleep naked I’m gonna get hard, Moon.”

“You’re so… Irish,” I muttered. My stomach rolled suddenly. “Don’ feel too well.”

“Fuck.” Cillian hauled me up fast and got me to the bathroom. He dropped to the floor beside me, one hand holding my hair back as I retched into the toilet. When it finally stopped, he wiped my mouth with a cool cloth and pressed a glass of water into my hand.

I leaned heavy against his shoulder, the tile cold under us.

“I love you,” I whispered.

Cillian went completely still. Then his arm tightened around me. “Say it again.”

I pressed my face into his chest. “No.”

His laugh broke against my hair. “Doesn’t matter. I heard you.”

My eyes kept sliding shut on the bathroom floor. The tile was cold but Cillian was warm and I was done moving.

“Okay, you can’t sleep here.” Cillian hauled me up, half-carrying, half-dragging me back to bed. He stripped down to boxers and pulled me against him under the covers, chest to my back, arm locked around my waist.

I pressed back into him, already drifting. “Do the thing…”

“What thing?”

“The neck,” I slurred, tilting my head just enough.

Cillian exhaled against my skin. Then his mouth found my neck, slow, tender kisses pressed along the column of it.

My body melted further into his.