Page 40 of Hiss and Tell
“You haveheart.” His other hand cups my cheek, and I lean into the touch. “You love fiercely. You fight for what matters. Why would I run from that?”
The tears I’ve been holding back burst free. “Because people always do. Because I’m a mess. Because I have a kid and three jobs and a health condition and—”
His kiss stops the spiral of words. Unlike our first kiss, this one is gentle. Careful. A promise rather than a passion. His snakes brush softly against my hair, and his sanctuary effect makes everything feel possible.
When we break apart, his forehead rests against mine. “I’m falling in love with you,” he says quietly. “All of you. The mess and the kid and everything in between.”
“Sebastian…”
“You don’t have to say anything. Just… let me show you what being cared for feels like. Let me help carry some of the weight.”
“I’m not very good at that.” But my hands have found their way to his shoulders, solid and real. “The letting people help part.”
“Good thing I’m patient.” His smile turns playful. “And that I have excellent helpers.” His snakes demonstrate by creating a heart shape above us.
A laugh escapes, and some of the tension melts. “I think I’m falling in love with you, too. All of you. The size and the snakes and the way you make everything feel possible.”
“Even spreadsheets?”
“Especially spreadsheets.” A laugh bubbles up as I think about how his snakes kept rearranging my color-coded client folders into their own mysterious system last week. “Though your helpers seem to think my organizational methods need improvement.”
Looking at him—this gentle giant who brings magic into children’s lives, who shows up when it matters, who sees my broken pieces as something precious rather than problematic—I make a decision.
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Okay, I’ll let you help. I’ll trust this. I’ll believe that sometimes running away isn’t the only option.”
His smile could light up the whole town. “Good.”
As his snakes resume their gentle swaying, as his sanctuary effect wraps around us like a warm blanket, as his massive presence makes my tiny apartment feel like home, I realize something profound.
Sometimes the biggest barriers we face aren’t the ones other people put up.
Sometimes they’re the ones we build ourselves.
And sometimes it takes a Gorgon librarian with kind eyes and magical storytelling abilities to show us how to break them down.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Sebastian
The ancient leather-bound tome weighs heavily in my hands as I carefully turn brittle pages illuminated with faded gold leaf. Three days have passed since Aspen’s revelation, and I’ve spent every free moment diving deeper into my family’s historical texts. What started as casual research has become an urgent mission.
My apartment is scattered with similar volumes, family heirlooms passed down through generations of Gorgons, their contents a mixture of history, mythology, and practical knowledge that most modern people would dismiss as fantasy.
But I know better.
My snakes hover attentively over the pages, occasionally helping turn a particularly delicate leaf. They understand the importance of what I’m searching for, something that could change everything for Aspen. For us.
“The blood that flows from the veins on the right side is for the salvation of mankind,” I murmur, translating the archaic text. The passage continues with specific instructions for a healing ritual so ancient it predates modern medicine by centuries.
Since our conversation Saturday night, we’ve spoken daily, shared meals, continued our routine—but beneath every interaction lies the weight of possibility that I haven’t yet dared to voice fully for fear of getting her hopes up.
A soft knock interrupts my research. Through the peephole, Iris’s determined face comes into view, flanked by Mabel and Dorothy as always. It’s past ten PM, but their persistence is legendary.
“Sebastian Fangborn!” Iris marches in with familiar authority, then stops short at the sight of my living room transformed into an impromptu research library. “What in heaven’s name?”
