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“Yeah! The Christmas party is Friday,” she says. “You would know if you ever checked your email.”
“How do you know I don’t check my email?”
“Because I know you,” she says, and there’s a small sprinkle of sadness in her tone. “And because you never RSVP’d.”
“Well, I’ll be there.” I back away from Indigo, and Freja lets out a little squeak.
“Momiji is at home, baby, but you can see him at the party,” she says and then looks me straight in the eyes. “I’ll see you there.”
I turn. Unlike the ancient myth of Orpheus and Eurydice, I don’t look back.
* * *
Two days until the Christmas party. I sift through my sweater drawer, looking for anything to wear when I see Indigo.
Knock knock.
Someone’s at my door?
Knock knock knock.
Someone impatient is at my door. Willing my legs to carry me faster than I have before, I sprint to the front of my apartment, opening the door. Indigo launches herself at me, grabbing my face and kissing me harshly. Her face is wet with tears, and I wrap myself around her pulling her onto the couch with me.
“My little rabbit, why are you here? Why did you kiss me?”
She wipes away a tear and looks at me with the biggest smile. “I got the job. I’m not your subordinate anymore; we can be together.”
“Really?”This isn’t a dream?I cup her face in my hands.
“Oh, don’t act like you didn’t know. The Dean said you practically begged him to kick me out of your department.” She crosses her arms.
“I didnot. I specifically said you were amazing, but that you’d be better suited as a potions professor,” I say. “Also, I didn’t know. I simply made a recommendation. I wasn’t sure it would work.”
“V, this is all I’ve ever wanted.”
“Wow, I’m flattered.”
She pushes me lightly. “Not just you, asshole. All of it. This is everything I’ve ever dreamed of—everything my mother told me I couldn’t have.”
“But you can have it,” I tell her.
“Because of you.”
I shake my head. “No Indigo, you did this. You’re the one who graduated early and got a job at Augury University at the age of twenty four. You’re the one who took a chance with me at that bar—the one who manages to teach charms and history and practice potion. You’re the one who has done all this work, allow yourself to take credit for it. You deserve this.”
She kisses me again, this time deeper, and I allow her to take control. “Do I get a reward?”
“Of course,” I slowly drift my fingers up her thigh.
“Have I made the naughty or nice list?” she asks, voice full of sin.
“Obviously naughty.” I move to unbutton her pants. “What do you want Santa to bring you this year?” I ask with a wink.
“A girlfriend.”
My heart grows ten times in size. “I think I can arrange that.”
* * *
