Page 69 of Worse Fates
“You love me?” I want to be strong for Golden, but in the hands of my lover and his confession, how can I be anything else but humbled.
“I’ve not got the vocabulary of the Oxford dictionary, so give me some grace, alright?” He takes a deep breath. “Kai told me loving someone is scary, and yeah, it really is. But when I’m with you I’m only scared of losing you. And not just to death. To apathy, like Vidar. Because you’re special, Lucero. You’re important. The pain of turning into a vampire scares me but I’d do anything to be you.” His lips grace my ear, his voice my soul. “Your…your precious, too. You’re my light. Of course I love you.”
I kiss him deeply, our mouths melding. Love is too small a word, too simple an emotion, to encompass what I feel for him. But it’ll simply have to do.
“I love you.” Kiss. “I love you.”
Chapter Twenty-Four - Golden
I’m not sure how long Lucero and I slept. But once I’m awake, the dipping sun sets the room ablaze in reds and yellows. A pile of cheese sandwiches sits on the bedside table waiting to be eaten, no doubt left by Kai.
I’ll check on him soon.
Lucero assured me my friend was healthy and resting, but I got the sense there was something left unsaid. Before I could question my vampire, he was out like a light. Now, as I stand over his sleeping form, eating a sandwich and getting crumbs on his fancy carpet, I realise I’ve never seen him sleep.
He lies on his back, one hand behind his head and the other across his chest.
I polish off a third sandwich, feeling a bit like a stalker as I scan every exposed inch. He remains topless, black PJ bottoms sitting low on his carved hips. The moment of panic when he ripped his shirt off to prove he was okay is carved into my mind.
But, also….damn. That was kinda sexy.
My teeth sink deep into the sandwich, gaze locked on his hard chest, unblinking. Lucero’s got dark nipples and brown hair scattered over his warmed white skin.
Has this dude always been handsome?
A petty part of myself hopes he was a bit too skinny and awkward as a teenager. Maybe he hadn’t grown into his strong nose, striking lips or defined jaw. Or maybe he’s one of God’s favourites, and looking like a Greek statue comes naturally.
I also wonder what age he was made into a vampire. Maybe thirty? We never did revisit the subject of me becoming a vampire. I bet he’s hoping I’ve forgotten.
‘Too bad for him,’ I think, shoving the last sandwich in my mouth.
I down a couple glasses of water, then head into the bathroom for a shower. Like his bedroom, it's all dark, moody colours. The black countertop matches the black tiled floor and the bigass black bathtub. It’s cool, masculine, like shoving down your feelings and eating steak raw. But it’s also lonely, cold. Ramy decorated; is this how he sees my vampire? Or is that how Lucero sees himself?
Either way, I think it’s time he had a bit more colour in his life.
The hot spray of the shower clears away the last of my fogginess and I stretch my arms into the water, cracking my neck from left to right.
Jace. I just can’t escape that bellend.
I couldn’t really make out the woman with him, but I heard him scream her name—Emma. She was weird when I first met her all those years ago.
Jace was a lot of things, but he brought me up to hate drugs. So when he came to me, lips stretched into a too tight grin, waving a little bag of bright red pills, I knew something had changed. I’d pleaded to understand what was going on, or for him to see reason but his mind was made up.
Now I know Emma is a blood mage, I wonder if she fucked Jace up somehow? Or maybe she brought his violence to the surface.
I shut off the stream, impatient to return to Lucero’s side and half-heartedly towel myself off. Still damp, I climb back into bed and press against his side, hungry for his warmth.
His arms come around me on instinct, and all my worries fade away because Lucero is…home.
???
When I next wake up, my head’s cradled in his lap. He’s sitting against the bed rest, fingers running through my curls.
“Good whatever time it is,” I yawn.
Lucero smiles indulgently, moving curls from my forehead. “How did you sleep?”
I shift, then drag myself up so I can flop onto him. He chuckles, moving my pliant body until I’m straddling his lap, my cheek flattened on his shoulder. “Good. But you’re a bit pale, do you need blood?”
