“That’s because he didn’t know who he was,” I answered, spinning on my heel to walk inside. “I’m going to sleep for four days. If you need me, no the fuck you don’t.”
Thorne took a step in my direction but I threw up a hand to stop him. “Do we need a lesson in boundaries?”
He moved back.
“Such a good boy,” I said, swinging open the door as Archer chuckled.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“Shh,” Archer hissed, holding up a kitchen knife. “This part is incredibly important.”
I leaned against the doorframe, watching as he meticulously arranged thin slices of meat on a piece of bread, his tongue poking out in concentration. The kitchen counter was covered in various ingredients, cheeses in different stages of being sliced,meats laid out like playing cards, and at least three different types of bread.
“Did you raid the entire pantry?”
“Elowen said I’m not allowed to dirty all her dishes at night anymore.” He grinned, not looking up from his careful meat placement. “So I’m being very selective about which ones I use.”
“I can see that,” I said dryly, eyeing the stack of plates beside him. “Very selective.”
The Remnants swirled over my arms, but I did my best to ignore them as I watched this ridiculous man treat sandwich making like it was an art form. I tried to focus on the absurdity of the scene rather than the shadows threatening to manifest.
“You know what your problem is?” he asked, reaching for a slice of cheese.
“Just one?”
“You’ve never had a properly constructed midnight sandwich.” He held up the knife again, using it to gesture as he spoke. “It’s all about the layers. The architecture. Thevision.”
I snorted. “The vision?”
“Don’t mock my craft. This is serious business.”
“Oh, I can see that. Very serious.”
He finally looked up, his eyes bright with that boyish mischief I’d missed. “Want me to make you one? I’ve been practicing.”
“Practicing making sandwiches?”
“You sound like a bird repeating everything I say. Anyway, I had to find something to do while you were off having adventures without me.”
“If I’d had a choice…”
He forced a smile. “I know, Fingers. I know.”
A particularly violent surge from the Remnants made me grip the doorframe, my knuckles going white as I fought to keepthe shadows from manifesting. They were desperate to break free. To destroy. To consume.
Archer immediately set down his knife, all traces of playfulness vanishing. He opened his arms. “Come here.”
I hesitated for a moment before stepping into his embrace. The Remnants hissed their disapproval, but his warmth seemed to push back against their cold fury. He hugged me tight, one hand coming up to cradle the back of my head.
“I’ve got you,” he whispered. “Whatever darkness is trying to eat you alive in there, whatever madness is screaming in your head, I’ve got you. We’ll figure it out together.”
I pressed my face into his chest, letting out a shaky breath. “Promise?”
“Always.” He pulled back just enough to look at me, his expression turning serious. “If I had to be bound to anyone in the world, I’m glad it’s you.”
I squeezed him a little harder. “Me too, Archie. But I’m fairly certain Quill is tangled up in this too.”
“It’s not a tangle. It’s fate. And we’re fine either way. It changes nothing.”
