I lifted my face and kissed him, tasting the salt of my own tears, inhaling the scent of his soap.
He lifted me off the floor, held me tight against him. My skin slipped against my sweater until my toes touched hardwood and air touched my bare spine. He gave a breathy, nervous laugh as he hitched me up again and this time supported me with a hand on the back of my thigh. “Is this okay?” he whispered.
I had lost all power to breathe, but managed to hook my legs around his waist. It was strange, like we were too close and not close enough. His hips moved when he walked, and he kept one hand on my back, and one under my leg so I wouldn’t fall.
He placed me at the foot of his bed, and I recaptured my breath as he knelt before me. “You are beautiful.” His hands rested on my knees. “And wiser than anyone has given you credit for. The world does need you, Ana. You challenge us, make people think and open their eyes to the truths that we’ve been ignoring for too long. Sometimes I’m so aware of how close the world came to not having you at all, and it terrifies me. Our immortality is not without a price.”
“Neither is my life. There was Ciana, and other darksouls.”
He shook his head, black hair falling across his eyebrows. “I’m sorry that I disappoint you sometimes, Ana. I know I’m not perfect. No one is.”
I tried not to think about how many times I would inevitably disappoint him. I’d want his forgiveness when I did. I could forgive him now.
“There is something I am good at.” He ducked his head as though to hide a blush, and his hands on my legs forced my insides into taut coils of yearning. “At least I hope. I imagine you would tell me if I’ve been doing it wrong this whole time.”
“Music?” I bit my lip. I’d never heard him so much as play an out-of-tune note.
He raised himself, leaned so close his words touched my mouth. “Kissing you.”
I couldn’t move. “Prove it.”
His sly smile flashed as he tilted his head and tipped his chin toward mine. Our lips brushed, but instead of kissing me, he rested his teeth against my skin and gave a gentle squeeze. His voice was so low it rumbled in my stomach, too. “I just wanted to find out if it tasted as good as I imagined.”
“And?” He hadn’t hurt me, but I could still feel the slight pressure where his teeth had been.
Maybe he’d do it again.
He leaned close and whispered by my ear. “Better.”
Wind and snow pattered on the shuttered window while we kissed. He touched my face, throat, collarbone, making me feel like a piano must under strong, skilled fingers. But his movements dragged, and even the cadence of his breath sounded off, as though he was trying not to yawn.
“When was the last time you slept?” I cupped my hand over his cheek, feeling the way his jaw moved when he answered.
“I don’t remember.”
Not since we’d found the parlor, I was certain. Even before that had merely been a couple of hours in the early morning. He must be exhausted.
“Lie down. I’ll turn off the light.”
He kissed me again, as if to prove he wasn’t that tired, and then stretched across the bed. “Stay with me,” he said, as I made the room fall into twilight.
I paused, wanting him to mean it.
“Please,” he whispered.
“Okay.” I emptied my pockets and laid my belongings on his nightstand. Then I crawled into the bed, facing him. Everything was so dark, I could barely see the shape of his body, and for a moment, my frantic heartbeat seemed the loudest thing.
“Blanket?” He reached around behind him to find the end.
“I am cold,” I whispered. And if he heard the shaking in my voice, maybe he’d think it was from chill.
He swept the sheet and down-filled comforter over us. “Closer?”
Yes. Definitely. I reached for him, relieved to find him reaching for me, too. His hands found my waist and pulled me tight against him. “Sam, I don’t know—”
His tone sounded like a half smile. “It’s okay. We’ll figure it out another time. I just want to hold you right now.”
That was good. I wanted—something. But I didn’t want to do it wrong and embarrass myself. I probably would, anyway, if we ever got that far. But for now, I turned over—awkward in my day clothes—and pressed my back to his chest. Our legs intertwined, and I knotted my hands with his at my chest.
I slept.
And later woke to perfect snow silence outside, no wind or rattle of trees or clucking of chickens. Light seeped in around the shutters. I found which legs were mine and reclaimed them, then turned in Sam’s grasp. His hands were slack and heavy with the carelessness of sleep.
He rolled onto his back as I finished turning, and blankets pulled away. The susurrus of silk and our breathing were the only sounds.
Pale light shone around him, making highlights and deep shadows around the ridges of his face and neck, down his torso and arms. Hesitating—what if he woke up?—I combed dark strands of hair off his face, then traced the lines of his cheekbones and smile.