Page 56 of Vallaverse: Twist
I sink down into my seat and pick at the loose loop of yarn on the wrist of my sweater. “I want you to mark me again. When I go into heat.”
“You want me to try to create a second claiming mark?”
“Can you?”
I can feel his eyes on me when he glances over again. “I can certainly try. If that's what you truly want. But not during your first heat. Or any heat, for that matter.”
The pout takes over my mouth and tone before I can stop it. “Why not?”
“Because I want you to remember it,” he answers bluntly. “And I want to enjoy it.”
That dries up my pout. I do want to remember it. I was literally dying when he put his mark on me. I'm surprised the mark took outside of being knotted, but it did. I've wondered more than once if it's a complete binding, which is one of the reasons why I want the secondary mark. Guilt snakes around me at the second part, though. I didn't consider that he may not have enjoyed claiming me. I honestly never even thought about it.
“Kids?”
I blush. “I mean,” I say softly, almost whispering, “yeah. If you don't, it's okay. I just always thought that we'd… “ My words fizzle out awkwardly as my face gets hotter.
He doesn't say anything for a minute, and I peek over at him to find him smiling. The tightness in my chest eases a little.
“I didn't know whether you'd want to have any or not.”
“I don't want to rush it, or anything,” I say quickly.
He reaches over and puts his hand on my thigh, squeezing it reassuringly. “I want them if you want them.”
I do want them. I always have, but after I was with Kris for so long, and all the things that happened when I was with her, I didn't think I'd ever be able to, so I just gave up the idea. I gave up so many ideas, including Brooks. I've thought about him so many times over the years, but I was never brave enough or strong enough to reach out. Shame played a huge part in it. But I'm here now. We're here. And things can be good again. Everything can be okay now.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Brooks
It's been about eight weeks since Laz's appointment. He's looking healthier than I've ever seen him, even when we were younger. He's even put on a little weight. Laz will never be heavy; he isn't built for it. He's entirely too tall to ever be stocky, and his version of being muscular is length as opposed to bulk. He's tall and lanky, but after a few months of actually being cared for, his sharp angles have softened. He's softer in general, not just his appearance.
Laz has always been so easygoing. He never got worked up over anything. He was always so calm and could find humor anywhere. Even on my worst days, Laz was always there to find something to smile about. Every day he becomes more and more of his old self. He's worked so hard to get well again. I'm so proud of him.
We've settled into a new routine. Mrs. Richards only makes us dinner three times a week now. Laz has discovered that he is very good at operating the kitchen, and Mrs. Richards hashelped him to learn enough that he has all but taken over our meals. Laz even doubles recipes most nights so he can send meals home with Mrs. Richards. I'm still not allowed to do much, and I did get in trouble for fucking with the slicer. It's much better for everyone if I stick to easy sandwiches and heating up leftovers.
Laz is kneading pizza dough right now. He hasn't made a quarter of the mess I would have. He has a smudge or two of flour on his shirt and forehead, which is sexy in an adorable way. His hands working the dough and the bunching muscles of his forearms, though? I've never been aroused by watching someone cook before, but I've had several thoughts about lifting him up onto the counter.
My phone dings with a text notification and I dig it out of my pocket to check it. It's Grady. He just wanted to check in on me, and also my Omega. I'm not used to people caring about me on a personal level. Mrs. Richards cares, but her caring came by way of proximity. I suppose the same could be said about Grady, but I haven't spent all that much time with him, nor have I spoken to him very much. I don't have many friends, and I don't know if that's something I'm ready to explore with Grady, but it feels nice to be thought about.
“Oh,” Laz says, his hands stilling in the raw dough.
My eyes shoot to his wide ones. “What? What's wrong?”
“I don't know,” he stutters. “Um, nothing's wrong. I just thought—“ A pink flush starts climbing up his neck. “Oh...”
“What's going on?” I bark. “What happened?”
He was fine just a moment ago.
His teeth sink into his lip, and he blinks rapidly.
“Laz,” I bark again.
He releases his lip and stares at me, still wide-eyed. “I think... oh. Oh fuck.”
“Lazarus, so help me, tell me what— “
