“Not…asstressful…” I iterate.
“They were all stressful,” he murmurs. “Especially the last one.”
“Valik?”
He snorts again. “Not Valik. One before that.”
“One to one, then.Even.”
“I am kind of glad you now know how this feels.” I watch, frozen as he lifts a hand and his fingers curl around the back of my leg, thumb grazing over my knee.
My brows pinch. All the strife, anxiety terror of the night. Surely it didn’t feel like that…to him. I look up to discern that. His face is annoyingly self-satisfied. Underneath that, brimming in his eyes is something softer. I think that it might beexactly how he feels.My lips form a silent o as my head spins. He laughs again as he taps me on the nose. “Yeah, exactly. You’ve put me through a lot.”
He lets loose a sigh, hand leaving my knee to drag through his hair again. He turns his head to the side to stare at the clock on the wall. “It's…Friday? Shit.”
“What?”
“Something I need to talk to you about.”
“What is it?”
“Breakfast first?” he offers, sliding his other hand from the counter, putting space between us as he takes a step back. My chest sinks as I feel the moment between us ending. I’m not ready. My hand snaps forward, fingers grazing over his to still him just as he meets the edge of the counter. “Aren’t you going to thank me?” I tease.
He stares down at our hands in surprise. I’ve touched him plenty but this is the first time I’m touching him just for the sake of touching him and we both know it.
My heart plummets forward as my confidence falters. My mind chooses this moment to remind me of all the times he very explicitly told me hedidn’t want me.
Of course I don’t fucking want her.
I slowly pluck my fingers back, curling them into the marble. My hand is suddenly ripped off the counter. My breath catches in my throat as he just barely grazes his mouth over my bandaged knuckles, uncurls my fingers to touch my fingertips to his lips. He presses his lips to the flat of my palm, looking at me with eyes that are liquid, voice slightly muffled as he asks, “Like this?”
“…what?”
“You asked me if I was going to thank you.”
“Is that what you’re doing?” I whisper.
“Maybe?” he mumbles, lips twisting.
“That…works,” I say hoarsely.
He exhales a soft laugh, lifting my hand to place it flat over his cheek. Timidly, I trail my thumb over his face. He sucks in a breath, letting his eyelids drift shut. “Thank you,” he says quietly.
“It was my honor…to save you from imminent death,” I quote.
He lets out another laugh, eyes flashing open as he leans forward. Still holding my hand to his cheek with one hand he uses the other to capture my face, trailing heated paths with his fingers across my temple and jaw. “You’re so incredible. I still don’t….hey, can I see something real quick?”
He lifts his hand from my face and draws his hand into a symbol. His magic sinks below my sternum. The daemon pangs so close to where his magic penetrates me.
I jolt, scrambling off the counter, falling over myself in my panic. “Wh—what are you doing? Don’t do that.”
His face is shocked as he straightens. “I just wanted to see—I don’t understand how you brewed the—“ I leap back as he takes a step closer.
“No!” I shout. Pure panic scrambles my thoughts. “Y—you know I don’t like that! You know! I don’t like your magic on me!”
“You didn’t seem to mind—“
“Do you just go around putting your magic inside anyone!?”