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“For what? You’re sorry for me being a monster?”
“You said you hated yourself too. I know how much that sucks.”
Caelan gives me a sidelong glance, eyebrows furrowed in disbelief. “All the things you could’ve picked out from that rant, and you’re going with that? Gonna try and humanize the shit I did? Sometimes a demon is just a demon, doll.”
“But you’re not just a demon anymore. Even if you despised it so much at first, you’re a better person now.”
He grunts. “Not just a demon, sure. Part human, too, and I would’ve carved that part right outta me if I could. I tried.”
“What?”
“Those scars you were asking about? Well, that’s how. No one and nothing else has ever had the damn power to leave lasting damage on a creature like me.”
My eyes widen, and I suddenly feel very small and stupid.To think I made a game of kissing along the scars, enjoying the look of them. To find out he’d done that to himself—
“JesusChrist, Caelan.”
He seems to think he’s said too much, because he turns away and gets off the bed as if to leave. I immediately lean after him and grab his wrist.
“Wait! You don’t have to go.”
“Yeah, I should, though.”
“I don’t like the idea of you being alone.”
Caelan gives me a confused look, then laughs. It’s not an overly pleasant sound. “Sweetheart, you’re cute, but that was forever ago. I just need to go stab something inanimate, then maybe have Elias choke me out and fuck me until I can’t even scream anymore. Ya feel?”
“Um… I guess.”
He finally softens a little, glancing away. He can still never quite apologize directly to my face. “Sorry for getting heavy on you or whatever. Didn’t mean to ruin your night.”
“It’s okay,” I say, and I realize it is. “You freaked me out, but I would rather have you talk to me than just be flippant and hide your feelings all the time. It’s all right, I promise.”
He takes my head between his hands, fingers stroking through my hair. For one moment, an expression that’s almost anguished flashes across his face. “We’re gonna end up hurting you for real someday,” he mutters, then he kisses me. It’s tender despite the tightness of his grip, despite the little electrical crackles shuddering through him that are always a sure sign his emotions are running high.
“Next date will be better for you, I promise,” Caelan says. I don’t get a chance to reply. He kisses me again, then vanishes almost immediately, slipping into the abyss where I can’t follow.
I spend the rest of the night staring at the ceiling, unsettled thoughts racing too fast to allow me to drift off. It’s the early hours of the morning by the time I roll over and pick up my phone again. I send a text to Caelan, typing out nothing more thanI love you,but that’s enough closure for me to finally get to sleep.
ChapterNineteen
Caelan was right about one thing. The next date is better. As far as I’m concerned, any date with them is good. Even if things do get serious, I don’tmindthat. That I’m getting closer to them, that they’re opening up to me the way I opened up to them, is something I treasure, even if there is a lot of thorny shit involved. Everyone has baggage, flaws, and darkness in them. They just have a lot more than most.
Still, there’s more than enough sweetness to even it all out.And spice.I grin to myself at that thought.
Sometimes we don’t even go out and do anything, we just enjoy each other’s presence while we’re busy with our own things. I feel a little bad about that. Elias brings his laptop and whatever he’s working on. Sometimes lyrics, sometimes organizational things, negotiating contracts and the like, and sits in bed beside me, typing away.
I’m certain the setting is a massive step down from how he usually does his work. I picture him more in an office, all imposing dark wood furniture and a black leather chair. I’d offered him the use of my desk, but he’d only laughed.
So, he sits on my bed with his work, and I sit next to him with my textbook and school notes, occasionally leaning against his shoulder just to enjoy him being there. Caelan perches on the end of the bed with his guitar, playing new riffs he’s working on for future songs.
He’s quiet for once, focused like that, eyes lowered as he strums the notes. Every time I look over it strikes me how gorgeous he is.
It’s quiet and comforting and sickeningly domestic.
On one such evening a couple of weeks later, Elias draws my attention by kissing the top of my head. “Do you think you would be able to get the weekend after next off work?” he asks.
I look away from my notes to blink at him. “How come?”
