Page 58 of Knot My Wonderland: Part Two
"It's my role," he said finally, his voice carrying those strange harmonics that made me feel like he was speaking from multiple points in time simultaneously. "Vee sees the broader patterns; I manage the immediate probabilities."
The admission touched me deeply. I'd always sensed Dee's protective nature, but hadn't realized how actively he worked to shield me from temporal dangers I couldn't even perceive.
"Thank you," I whispered, squeezing his hand. The opalescent bond between us brightened, carrying emotions I rarely felt from him—not just calculation and analysis, but genuine care.
"You should rest," Dee said, though he made no move to withdraw his hand from mine. "Tomorrow's training will focus on integrating creation techniques with defensive shielding. It requires both precision and stamina."
I nodded, feeling the day's frustrations finally giving way to exhaustion. The pattern beneath my skin settled into a gentler rhythm as Dee's presence grounded me in the present moment, just as he'd described. The temporal calculations that usually flickered around him like invisible equations seemed to quiet, focusing entirely on this shared space between us.
"Will you stay?" I asked, surprised by my own vulnerability. "Just until I fall asleep?"
Dee's expression softened in a way I'd never seen before. "Of course." He shifted to lie beside me, careful not to disturb the delicate temporal devices at his wrists. "Though I should warn you—being this grounded in linear time makes me more... emotionally accessible than usual."
I turned to face him, studying the play of opalescent light beneath his skin. "Is that a warning or a promise?"
His laugh was quiet, carrying harmonics that seemed to resonate from multiple timelines at once. "Both, perhaps." His free hand came up to brush a strand of hair from my face, leaving trails of opalescent light where his fingers touched my skin. The pattern beneath my skin responded eagerly, silver and gold tendrils reaching toward his temporal energy like plants seeking sunlight.
"You're beautiful when you're not overthinking everything," Dee said softly, his silver eyes studying me with an intensity that made my breath catch. Through our bond, I felt his analytical mind cataloging every detail of this moment—not coldly, but with a reverence that surprised me.
"I thought overthinking was my specialty," I murmured, watching the pattern's light dance between us where our skin touched.
"One of many," he agreed, his lips curving into another of those rare smiles. "Along with adapting to impossible situations and forming connections that shouldn't technically be possible."
The opalescent bond between us pulsed with a gentle warmth that felt different from Heart's passionate golden glow or Chi's steady silver light. Dee's temporal energy carried a unique quality—like standing at the intersection of infinite possibilities while remaining perfectly grounded in this single moment.
"What's it like?" I asked quietly, my fingers tracing the edge of one of his temporal devices. "Seeing all those different timelines?"
Dee was silent for a moment, his silver eyes contemplative. "Imagine standing in a hall of mirrors, each reflection showing a slightly different version of reality. Some nearly identical to this one, others dramatically changed by a single choice or circumstance."
"That sounds overwhelming." I told him as I thought of how it must feel. I had felt some of the effects after we bonded but living like that for such a long time sounded exhausting.
"It can be," he admitted. "Especially when the timelines involve people I care about." His fingers brushed against my cheek, leaving trails of opalescent light. "Your timelines are particularly...vibrant. They branch and intersect in ways I've rarely witnessed."
"Is that good or bad?" I asked, watching the subtle patterns of light shifting beneath his skin.
"Fascinating," he corrected, his silver eyes holding mine. "Most people's timelines follow predictable patterns, variations on a theme. Yours..." he paused, his expression almost reverent, "yours create entirely new possibilities with each choice. You reshape reality around you without even realizing it."
The pattern beneath my skin pulsed in response to his words, as if confirming this assessment. Through our bond, I caught glimpses of what he described—countless versions of myself, each making slightly different choices, each creating ripples that transformed Wonderland in subtle but profound ways.
"Does that make your job harder?" I asked, genuinely curious. "Trying to calculate probabilities when I keep changing the equation?" A smile touched his lips again as he looked at me with eyes that were soft.
"Challenging, not harder," he corrected, his fingers continuing their gentle exploration of my face. "Your unpredictability makes the calculations more complex, but also more... meaningful."
I raised an eyebrow. "Meaningful?"
"Most temporal calculations feel like solving equations," Dee explained, his voice carrying those strange harmonics that made me feel like he was speaking from multiple momentssimultaneously. "With you, it's more like composing music. The variables dance rather than simply resolving."
The description touched me unexpectedly. Through our opalescent bond, I felt his genuine appreciation—not frustration at my unpredictability, but a kind of wonder. The pattern beneath my skin responded to his emotions, silver and gold light spiraling toward his temporal energy in delicate, intricate configurations.
"I never thought of myself as particularly musical," I murmured, watching the light dance between us.
"You don't compose with sound," Dee clarified, his opalescent light pulsing gently where it met mine. "You compose with possibility itself. Each choice you make creates harmonies across multiple timelines, resonances that echo through reality in ways most people can't achieve."
His words sent a shiver through me that had nothing to do with temperature. The pattern beneath my skin responded to his explanation with eager pulses, as if recognizing a truth I'd never fully understood about my own nature.
"Is that why the pattern chose me?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. "Not for magical ability, but for... whatever this is?"
"Partly," Dee acknowledged, his silver eyes reflecting depths that seemed to contain entire universes. "But mostly because you have the rarest gift of all—the ability to change without losing who you are at your core." Through our bond, I felt the weight of his certainty—not calculated probability, but something deeper, more fundamental. The pattern beneath my skin hummed in agreement, silver and gold light pulsing with what felt like recognition.
