Page 40 of Nine-Tenths

"It absolutely is not. Now either go on your break or help me with the recycling."

Min-soo hates taking the recycling bags down to 'The Murder Basement'. Just because the stairs are old and open, the walls are lumpy with years of inept tenants trying to plaster, the floor is uneven from an untold number of renovations, and the lightbulb doesn't always turn on? There's nothing scary about that. (The monster mask Hadi propped up in the corner?That'sscary.)

Min-soo grabs her own sandwich box, and knocks on the kitchen door.

"Yes, alright, come in," Dav calls after a minute, and his voice is low and husky from the flame. He must have just started roasting, but it sounds like something else, though, like his voice is husky for another reason and I stick my hand in my front pocket to try to adjust the lay of my skinny jeans as subtly as I can.

Min-soo darts through with a quick, "Congrats, Dav," and then I hear the back door open.

"Congratulations?" Dav mutters in echo. I can't tell if he’s surprised or annoyed.

Hadi is still standing at the far end of the counter,lookingat me.

"What?" I snap.

"I'm trying to figure out why you're not squirrely."

"I don't get squirrely."

"You do. The first week of you in love is like trying to corral a tree-rat on speed."

"It's not!"

It is.

She offers up a flat glare.

"I dunno what's different," I admit softly, hoping Dav can't hear me over the sound of breathing fire. "I just… he's so calm."

"He's a nervous wreck," Hadi corrects. "Although, only around you."

"Gee, that makes me feel special."

"Maybe it should." Hadi gives me a bro-pat before taking her lunch downstairs to her office in the Murder Basement.

Fuck. Does it?

Dav was quiet beside me on the way to lunch, withdrawn and contemplative. He'd walked with his hands jammed in his pockets, radiatingdon't talk to mevibes so loudly my ears rang. But at the table, he’d opened up. He had beenhonest. He'd finished his sentences. Which I'll admit was probably because I'm making a conscious effort to stop cutting him off. I’m getting that he doesn't blurt shit out like me, and needs time to work through his thoughts.

But maybe Hadi was right. Maybe he was nervous before.

It's gotta be the other dragons that have him looking over his shoulder, minding his words. It can’t beme.Not allowed to serve, he'd said.Because of a disgrace.

The more time I spend with him, the more I see that he downplays things. I flop my poor bleeding heart out all over the place, pinned to my sleeve and oozing down my arm; Dav's heart is under seven layers of plate armor at the bottom of a dry well.

And I basically forced him to share an uncomfortable truth.

I'm an asshole.

But maybe it’s this calm willingness to be vulnerable that has me so mellow. This, whatever this is, whatever it is we become, this feels… different from every other time I've had a crush. The crush-part feels the same. But this bit, the getting-to-know-you bit, the let’s-go-on-a-date bit, this part feels sturdier, somehow. Nicer. Easier. Grounded.

God, don't screw this up, come on,I chide myself.Don't get in your own head too much. Let it stay easy.

"So are you gonna send me the pic?" I ask Hadi, a few hours later.

"Pull it off our social media feed."

"Youwhat?" I yank my phone out of my back pocket.

---