Page 23 of The Embrace of Evergreen
“Nope.” We’re close enough that his quiet chuckle rumbles through my chest. “When I was about eight, I went through a phase where I only wanted to eat blue foods.”
Laughter bubbles out of me before I can stop it. “What?”
“I know. I have no idea why. Kids are weird as fuck. I wanted blue suckers and popsicles and blueberries with every meal. My parents indulged me in order to convince me to eat, and they’d do things like blend a couple of blueberries into my mashed potatoes and shit. It only lasted a couple of months, but during that time, my lips and tongue were permanently tinted. Kids at school made fun of me for the first week or so, but then somehow, it just sort of became a term of endearment my friends used. My family heard them, and then they started using it too. For the most part, I’ve been Blue ever since.”
His grin is gentle, and his expression is so soft and content that I want to remember it always. I don’tever want to forget what it’s like to lie here with him like this.
“So the hair is just a fun coincidence?” It takes all of my willpower not to reach out and caress it again as I ask.
His grin widens. “I went through a stage as a teenager where I dyed it all sorts of colors. Once I got to blue, it just sort of felt right, and I haven’t felt like changing it since.”
I want to ask him to tell me more stories about his childhood, about his hair, about his art, about anything at all. I don’t want this night to end, but his eyes are staying closed just a bit longer with each blink, and I know only moments are left before he drifts off completely. I want to lie here with him forever, but I know this one spectacular night is probably the only chance I’ll get to feel this way. More than likely, whatever magic has been woven around us by old Victorian bedrooms and fireworks and tie-dyed blankets in the cold will have faded by morning, and I’ll be back to my usual self. I’ll be someone who doesn’t feel drawn to touch silken blue hair or wonder what a lip ring would feel like against my lips. I’ll be a person who’s so different and broken and alone in the universe that they could cry. I want to hold onto this for as long as I can. I never want to let go of this feeling. I never want to let go of him.
Blue’s eyes fly open as I slide my hand a few inches toward him, letting it drift off my pillow to rest onthe mattress between us. He worries his lip ring with his teeth again, and his fingers twitch a time or two before his hand moves to settle gently over mine.
I can barely see his eyes in the pale moonlight that’s streaming in through the doors at the foot of the bed. In the dark, they’re black, not their normal pale ocean grey as he searches my face. His eyelids flutter, and one corner of his cheek tics up in a hesitant smile. When I return it, his fingers curl incrementally tighter around mine before his eyes shut and he sighs quietly.
Chapter 10
Blue
When I wake to painfully bright sunlight streaming in through the open curtains - curtains that I swear I stumbled out of bed to shut the moment the sun started to rise and disturb me - I'm alone.
I tell myself that it's because Ethan gets up at less-than-appropriate-for-humans hours, where I land firmly on the correct side of a vampire’s schedule, rather than because I scared him away by crossing a line last night. I only half believe myself, and it takes a solid five minutes of anxious spiraling before I manage to crawl out of bed with a grunt to face whatever horribly kind, let-me-down-easy conversation is in store for me.
I don’t bother to pull on a shirt before stumbling over to the balcony doors that, for some reason, are wide open. The humid breeze is more than welcome, but in my caffeine-deprived state, I struggle to figure out why Ithought I’d gotten up to close the drapes when early morning sunlight had begun to pierce its way through my eyelids, when what I really did was open the doors.
“Hey.”
I nearly jump out of my skin as Ethan’s voice greets me from the balcony, and he laughs at my pain as I squint and manage a few steps into the too-bright morning light to plop heavily down in the deck chair across from him. Without a word, he lifts a silver carafe, adds a bit of dark-brown water to his half-full cup, and fills the antique-looking floral coffee cup that sits on a matching saucer on the table in front of me.
“Thank you,” I mumble gratefully before taking my first hesitant sip. You never know whether you’re going to get actual coffee or something more akin to the plastic coffee water that comes out of my home machine when you’re at a hotel.
“Anytime. I know you’re about as functional as I am before you’ve had coffee.”
“Oh, I’m less functional, for sure. I’ve never seen you before coffee, but I’m fairly certain I hold some type of record for the lowest level of functionality possible while still managing to operate a body semi-successfully.”
His chuckle vibrates across my skin, deep and resonating as it mixes with the overly cheerful sound of morning birdsong.
“This is surprisingly good coffee,” I mumble, pleasantly surprised as I drain half in a gulp before setting down the mug.
Ethan refills it instantly. “I know. I was surprised as well.”
I nod my thanks as I pick the cup back up and slump back into the chair with my eyes closed to let the sunlight sink into my bones. When I open them again, Ethan is staring at his cup, his forehead creased in thought, and I watch him carefully for a long moment as I sip my coffee once more. He’s always been on the quiet side, and it’s always seemed like it might stem from something just a bit more intense than simply being shy. It’s likely my own insecurities are forcing me to see things that aren’t really there, but he seems even more withdrawn than normal this morning, and I’m terrified that I’ve screwed things up between us.
“You okay?” I try to keep my voice as casual and light as I can.
“Of course.”
The way he smiles over at me doesn’t feel quite normal either, and I stare for another moment before shifting my gaze to examine the contents of my cup.
“I’m sorry if I crossed any boundaries. I should have asked last night before I…”
“No.” He cuts me off quickly. “Please don’t be sorry. I…”
His sigh is one of the most heartbreaking noises I’ve ever heard, and there is so much insecurity written on his face as his eyebrows furrow and his forehead scrunches into small wrinkles that don’t belong there.
“Can I? I mean, I’d like to…” He cuts himself off again, clearly searching for the strength to say something uncomfortable. Maybe if I make a joke or simply stand up and run for the shower, I can stop him before he tells me there is no chance he wants anything more than friendship and that I’ve fucked even that up now.
