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Tons and tons of them, surrounding us, lighting up the night for us. And they’re so magical.
Magical and majestic.
Beautiful.
They’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
And a few minutes later, when Ledger’s done and he pulls himself out of my body only to pick me up in his arms bridal style, they still stay and frolic around us and I can’t help but whisper, “Fireflies.”
Holding me in his arms, he begins to walk. “Yeah.”
I look up at his face, illuminated by these tiny creatures and the mighty moon. “Is that why you call me Firefly? Because they light up your favorite woods.”
His eyes glitter. “I call you Firefly because you light up my life.”
My heart races even though it hadn’t calmed down much after our mind-blowing sex. “They’re beautiful.”
He doesn’t move his eyes from me as he says, “Yeah.”
And I think instead of the fireflies, he’s talking about me.
I’m also talking about him when my heart whispers, you beautiful thing, you.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“Why do you want a girl?” I ask him an hour later.
When we’re back at the cabin and in the bath.
It’s steamy and hot and absolutely perfect.
I hadn’t realized how exhausted I was after a day of crying and being angry and then running and yes, the epic sex in the woods. And apparently, he’s exhausted too because he takes a little bit of time answering me.
And it’s kinda adorable.
Him waking up now after having almost fallen asleep.
The way he blinks his eyes open, his brows bunching up slightly in confusion. And the way he breathes all sleepily, his warm chest moving beneath my cheek. Not to mention, his arms that were around me like he couldn’t bear to let me go jerk slightly before tightening up.
“Hi,” I whisper, looking up at him.
Finally he dips his face, focusing on me. “Because I like the idea of a little girl with blue-gray eyes and dark hair. Who’ll love cotton candy and have a tinkling laugh like wind chimes.”
I blink. Then, “Y-you think I have a tinkling laugh like wind chimes?”
His gaze roves over my face. “Yeah.”
“You’ve…” I lick my lips. “You’ve never said that before.”
He gazes down at my lips. “I’ve also never said that your voice is loud.”
I gasp. “How dare you?”
“But I find it peaceful.”
My eyes are wide. “P-peaceful?”
“Yeah.” Then, “Why else do you think I ask you to tell me stories at night?”
“Because…” I can’t believe I’m saying this. “I give you peace.”
“Sure,” he says, his voice strangely sounding amused. “And put me to sleep.”
I open my mouth to say something but then realize what he said. Swatting his chest, I say, “You’re such a jerk. I’m never telling you a story ever again.”
He chuckles lightly. “You will.”
“I won’t.”
“Only so you can torture me.”
That gives me a pause. “Actually, that’s not a bad idea.”
He smirks. “That’s my bloodthirsty girl.”
I blush then.
For more reasons than one. Not only is he right about my bloodthirsty and revenge-thirsty ways — something that I didn’t know I had until I met him honestly — but also because I did draw literal blood tonight with all my scratching and digging my nails.
He’s got scratches all over his back, his sides, his neck.
Something that so totally horrified me when I saw them in the bathroom’s mirror. But all he did was smirk and said, with pride even, “My girl’s got mean nails.”
“I’m so sorry,” I’d whispered in distress.
“It’s okay though. I’ve got a mean dick. We’re even.”
God, he’s crazy, isn’t he?
Despite blushing, I raise my eyebrows. “Well given what a firecracker I am, are you sure you’ll be able to handle not one but two of me?”
His amusement increases. “I think I’ll be fine. Given that I’m the Thorn and I’m the only one who knows how to handle my Firefly.”
I shiver at his affectionate but also determined tone as I tell him, “And what if she turns out to be a hopeless romantic like me?”
“I hope she’s a hopeless romantic.”
“She may even read romance novels.”
“I hope she reads romance novels.” Then, “In fact, I’ll buy her one when it’s time.”
“And what about high heels?”
“What about them?”
“What if like me, she likes high heels?
“If she does then I’ll make sure she never falls.”
“What if she does fall?”
“Then I’ll be there to catch her.”
Damn it.
I hate when he does that.
I hate when he’s sweet like that; I can’t be mad at him or annoyed with him.
Shaking my head, I whisper, “She’ll drive you crazy.”
“It’s her God-given right to drive me crazy.”
“And the guy she falls in love with.”
That gives him a pause. Then, with a light frown between his brows. “The guy she falls in love with.”
“Or a girl,” I tell him. “You know, someone special in her life.”
His frown thickens. “No.”
“What?”
“I don’t know.”
I frown too. “You don’t know what?’
“If there will be someone special in her life.”
