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“Yeah. Unlike you guys, I do need to sleep at some point,” I tease.
Caelan smirks. “’Course. Hope you have sweet dreams, doll.” From that expression and tone, it’s clear what type of dreams he means.
“Mmm… who needs dreams when I have you?”
“You truly are quite adorable,” Elias says. “Rest, darling.”
I gradually extract myself from the video call, then shut down my laptop and finish preparing for bed. Of course, once I’m in bed and lying down to sleep, my mind decides to start overthinking things again.
Do they mind that I’m keeping us a secret?
It didn’t seem so bad when I was panicking, trying to respond to questions I didn’t want to answer, and it wasn’t really anyone’s business to be asking anyway.But to straight up deny them while they were right there watching?
They mean so damn much to me.Isn’t the least I can do to acknowledge them?
It settles like an uneasy pit in my stomach. It’s not that I don’t want to tell the entire damn world how much I adore them. If I could scream it from the rooftops, I would, but I fear judgment too much. My family may accept some things, but polyamory isn’t something that’s ever come up. I don’t know how they would react, and that worries me.
I have no intention of explaining the demon aspect. That one is not my secret to share.
Maybe my concern is that they would react the same way Grace did. That they’d worry that because of their station, with Elias and Caelan being successful rock stars and all, they were only using me or saw me just as a groupie.
I’m a lot more reassured of where I stand now. It won’t be as bad as when Grace expressed her worries. Back then, after only one night and no idea what the future held, those doubts had already rooted deep, and I was trying so hard not to let them swallow me. Such a delicate balancing act between euphoria and abject despair. Hearing it spoken aloud was far too abrupt of a shift in that balance, and it had cut to the core.
Now?They’ve claimed me, no doubt of that. They have spent so much of their time humoring me with messages and video calls. And, of course, the whole gala weekend, just a few weeks ago.
I don’t have those doubts anymore. Certainly, if they have any ulterior motives, they’ve invested far too much time and effort for it to be anything as shallow as only wanting sex. I can’t truly claim to understand the minds or motives of any demon, but for better or worse, I trust them.
That doesn’t mean it wouldn’t be aggravating to have our relationship picked over and questioned by people who don’t have the first clue of what they’re like.
Then again, I suppose I’mtheirsecret too. Not that they have family to tell, but there are media and fans. They’re always so private about their lives behind the smokescreen performance for Goëtica. Elias and Caelan, and the demons on stage, they’re worlds away from each other.
Other than some of the backstage photos and gossip, the songs they play for me, or when they send me riffs of new things they’re working on, I am not involved with that side of their life. It’s not as if they do the whole rock-star lifestyle and party thing in any serious capacity. The very thought is laughable, given Elias is about as social as I am, and Caelan finds most people to be too irritating to bear.
Between that and beingparticularlyelusive, thanks to their inhuman skill sets, they’ve never had any bother with paparazzi. I know full well even the most basic information about them isn’t available anywhere.
If people like that were to find out about us, though, that could be a problem. More so formethan them, even. It’s probably never even occurred to them to eventually make our relationship public because nothing about their life is. The possibility of it never occurred to me until now, either.
I’m fine with that. I am very firmly fine with that. The whole celebrity, paparazzi, glitz, and glamour of LA deal—not my scene at all. I can see the appeal of, and could totally go for, a few drinks and a party with some friends, but a whole lifestyle of it would never work for me.
I can’t deny I’mgladElias and Caelan aren’t into that scene, either.
They really are perfect, aren’t they?
Reassured, I roll over and hug my pillow, breathing out deeply. I extremely doubt anyone in my family would rat me out about it or would be believed if they did. I already trusted Grace with the information, though I didn’t know it would be anything more than a fling then. But I don’t feel guilty about not telling them anymore.
Sometime, perhaps one day, depending on how serious this gets.Hah. Serious. As if they don’t already have their claws sunk so, so deep into me. Regardless, it’s a conversation we’ll have to have before I go blabbing anywhere.
Speaking of Grace.
The holiday and my stint visiting home is short. Of course, everyone wants the time off, and there are plenty of extra shifts to pick up. I take advantage of the momentary respite from schoolwork between semesters to pick up more hours at the lab instead. There’s no harm in getting extra income, especially after buying gifts for family.
I bought a present for Grace too. Nothing major, only generic chocolates and a cute notebook set. In return, she got me a black crystal pendant.
“It seemed like your low-key goth aesthetic,” she teases. At first, I think that’s all there is to it, and am ready to thank her and maybe coo over the crystal in appreciation, but her tone grows more somber. “I think it’d be good if you wear it.”
There’s something that feels odd about the statement. Not just an ‘it would suit you’ or ‘I’d like you to.’ Something more
“Huh? How come?” I ask.
