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They weren’t as bad during the night before – granted, I suppose being pumped full of endorphins and drooling lust at the bucketful would make anyone feel like superman for a time. But if it could just wait until I was done with her hair, finished with my shift, and wrapped in the snuggly cocoon of my bed, that’d be pretty great, thanks.

“You fed yet?” I asked, both to distract myself and bring some lively flourish to the dead air. “Didn’t really get a proper meal yesterday, right? Just a few gulps here and there.”

I felt her head shift a micro-inch, and like the slightest ripples in a vast ocean of silence, she replied, “Later…”

“If you’ve been awake this whole time like I’m beginning to suspect you are… could have done it when I was asleep. For future reference, I won’t mind if you sneak in a little midnight snack without my knowing.”

“Better… when you… are awake…” she said. “Only… when you are… awake…”

Whether she meant that as preference or a necessity, she didn’t care to elaborate further. It felt a little surreal hearing her this way again… stringing brief words between brief pauses. Last night might as well have been a very lucid, very vivid fever dream.

But it was real, alright. The torn, tattered seams that vaguely resemble my sleeves can certainly attest to that.

“There we go,” sooner than I expected, better than I hoped, with my hand bulging with a handful, I tacked the ribbon onto her hair – keeping her braids formed and enhancing her beauty. “Hopefully, that’ll hold this time.”

.....

Adalia leaned forward, rising to a rigid standstill – her silver locks flittering and glistening with the soft wintry beams of the sun. It was almost too dazzling to behold. If magnificence had a hard limit, then she was dangerously in crossing that threshold. Then again, who’s to say that she hadn’t already?

Slowly, she turned to me, lightly brushing a pointed finger onto one of the braids, her murky gaze swirling with the slight hints of delight.

“Thank… you…”

“My pleasure,” I said, stroking a cheek as I strolled past her to pick up my cloak on the ground nearby. “We should head home soon. I need a bath – a long one. I know you definitely don’t need it, but you also won’t need my permission if you wanna dip your toes in a little.”

To that, she just made a sound – the low, long hum of deep enticing ponder, lasting for but a second.

Guess that’s a yes.

In my hand, and in the air, the cloak quickly unraveled into a waterfall of black that grazed the concrete below. Would have expected it to have a little dusting off after being left on the floor overnight, but as far as I could tell, it was pretty much spotless. Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a single speck on it at all. No stench, no wear and tear, it remained as pristine as the day I got it.

Neat.

In the middle of my handy discovery, as I spun back around, I suddenly found myself in an impromptu staring contest with Adalia, who apparently had decided to sneak up on me while my back was still turned.

Caught off guard, however, I sadly lost the match.

I barely had the chance to think of a thought, before, in a splash of ice, she took my hand into hers, and reaching with her other claws, she slowly rolled my sleeve back – revealing a row of small gashes and laceration shaded in deep beads of red.

“Care… less…” She whispered, addressing no one in particular, before she lifted her gaze, and blinked once at me. “Do they… hurt…?”

“Barely even noticed them,” I quickly said as casually as I could, tugging my hand back and swinging it a little trying to back up my claim. “And I could really care less about them. You shouldn’t either. Don’t start feeling guilty now.”

“I know… not to… now…”Adalia responded, unbothered, unaffected, defying my expectation. “…because feeling… guilty… will only… hurt you more…”

In my head, I was flung back to the past – swimming in the lake, a small pool of red seeping out from my submerged, bleeding fingers… with a reluctant Adalia drifting away, fear a violent storm in the swirling gray of her eyes.

How far we’ve come…

“So please… you do not have… to lie to me… any…more…” She continued to say, pulling my hand back into hers, slowly entwining our fingers as one. “Do they… hurt…?”

I let out a small sigh, gripping back. “Maybe a little.”

“I see…”

“But give it a few days,” I quickly added. “I mean, I think a few scars would make me look a little cooler, don’t you think?”

“No…”

Promptly after, I found my cloak slipping from my fingers, hooking into hers as she hurled it in a swift flutter, swathing every inch of me within its deep black until only my head was visible.

“Focus…” She muttered, stepping back. “…not… too much…” She then warned. “…only enough…”

And so without asking further, and already suspecting as much, I did as I was told – channeling my focus in slow increments, until suddenly all the suddenness took over.

A sudden warmth, a sudden sentience, as the blackness began to rouse and slither across my body, engulfing me, almost swallowing me, every passing second a growing influence.

“Enough…” Adalia said, softly but firmly. “…not too much…”

Then – silence – as the cloak just as suddenly fell limp and lifeless swaying only to the light breeze from the fractured windows. But even more presently than that – the searing pain had abruptly stopped.

I lifted my arms from out the cloak, extended them out toward me, and as I thought – nothing – just the bare surface of my skin staring back at me.

“Of course it heals…” I said, flailing my arms now pain-free. “Should have thought of that myself, honestly.”

“Only… this once…” Adalia said. “Healing magic… is dangerous...” She met my eyes, and I felt my delight get tempered down by her stare. “…do not use it… again…”

“Dangerous?” I gave my non-existent wounds another glance. “Dangerous, how?”

“I… do not… know…”

“What?”

“I do not know… healing magic…” She clarified. “…so I cannot explain…”

Guess that’s a question I should ask our residential expert when I find the time. Or better yet, when she comes in and takes her seat for her daily dose of caffeine today.

“Well, in any case, that feels a million times better,” I said, sweeping it all aside for now. “So, if there’s nothing else, are you ready to go?”

“No…”

Once again, another staring contest, and twice in a row, I leaned back in utter defeat.

“No?”

“I do not want… to go home yet…” Adalia muttered, with a single step, her breath light and cold against my chest. “I do not… want this to end… yet…”

She laid her head on me and I took her in my arms without hesitation, stroking her hair and lightly bumping the edges of her bow.

“Yeah, I get what you mean…” I said, my lips, my nose nuzzling over the top of her head. “We had a lot of fun, didn’t we?”

“You do not... have to work yet…” She said, “We do not have… to go home… yet…”

“No, I suppose not,” I said, feeling a smile pushing back my cheeks.

“I want to spend… a little more time… with you… before I have to… let go of you…”

“That’s a bit selfish of you, don’t you think?” I teased.

“Yes…” She agreed. “Only for a bit… just a little longer… I want to be… selfish…” slowly with those swirly puppy-dog eyes, she looked up at me. “Can… I…?”

See, its words and phrases and feelings like that that makes it all the more harder to resist – to also make me wanna be a bit greedier. To forget everything else, and have her be the only thing that mattered.

But she wasn’t.

Adalia mattered a lot to me, but so does everything… everyone else. Even if I try to, I can never, ever forget them. I have to think of them too.

But… well… if it’s only for a little longer… then…

“Well, it is quite a long drive home… plenty of places to stop by for a while…” I looked at her, raising both brows. “Any suggestions?”

It was like the sun had cast away the murkiness in her eyes, almost ablaze, almost alive, those small little hints of delight suddenly shining as prominent as ever, as she spoke… her voice a vigorous splash in the silent ocean.

“Pan…cakes…”

Yeah, a little bit more wouldn’t hurt.