Page 73 of Heat Clickbait
"Ghost," she said, then caught herself. "Sorry. I know you don't like?—"
"Theodore." The word scraped out, barely a whisper. "With you, I'm Theodore."
She turned to look at me fully then, those brown eyes seeing straight through every wall I'd built. "Theodore died in that hospital waiting room."
"He did." I met her gaze, letting her see the truth. "But maybe... maybe he's been rebuilding. Piece by piece. Like Legos."
"I'm scared too," she admitted suddenly. "The others, their bonds feel so natural. Easy. But with you... it's different. Deeper. Like you see all the parts of me I try to hide."
I pulled out my phone again, typing carefully.
You sit in my silence and make it feel full instead of empty.
It was the same thing I’d written on the note in the gallery but I had no idea if she’d read it on the website or even been able to tell which was mine if she had gone to the website. All I knew was that for some reason this was something I needed to say to her, needed her to know.
She read it, and tears gathered in her eyes. "I need that. The silence. Everything else is so loud, the streams, the comments, the constant performance. But with you..."
"Peace," I whispered.
"Peace," she agreed. Then, softer, "I want your mark, Theodore. But only when you're ready. Only if you want it too."
The fear rose immediately, sharp and familiar. The last time I'd bitten someone, claimed someone, they'd died. Logic said it wasn't connected, that the bond hadn't caused the accident. But trauma doesn't speak logic.
"The others need you more," I managed.
"No." Her voice carried certainty. "They need me differently. But I need you too. Need someone who understands that sometimes the most important things can't be said out loud. Someone who builds entire cities to hold their feelings because words aren't enough."
I looked at our Lego structures, my complex city of memory and grief, her simple house of hope, the winding path I'd built between them. Then I looked at her, really looked. At the four bites on her neck, each one a choice she'd made. At the space that remained, like it was waiting.
For me.
"Not tonight," I said, and her face started to fall before I continued. "Tomorrow. When the sun's up. When it's not thesame time of night I got the call about the accident. When I can be Theodore choosing Callie, not Ghost running from memories."
She smiled, soft and understanding. "Tomorrow."
We went back to building in comfortable silence, our structures growing closer together with each piece. At some point, she leaned against my shoulder, and I didn't pull away. When exhaustion finally hit, we were surrounded by a complete world. My past and our future connected by careful construction.
"Stay?" I asked, the word easier than expected.
She nodded, and we curled up on the floor among our Lego city. Not touching beyond necessary points of contact, but connected nonetheless. I fell asleep to the sound of her breathing, the weight of her presence making the silence feel less like absence and more like home.
Tomorrow, I would bite her. Tomorrow, I would choose to let Theodore live again.
Tonight, we just existed in the quiet together.
I woke up to the soft glow of my Lego city, the miniature lights casting long shadows across the ceiling. Callie was still asleep beside me, her breaths deep and even, one hand resting on my chest. She looked peaceful, her features softened in sleep, nothing like the fake relaxed expression she usually wore.
I watched her for a moment, taking in the curve of her cheek, the way her lashes cast shadows on her skin. She was beautiful, not just in the conventional sense, but in a way that made something in my chest ache. She was fierce and vulnerable, strong and soft all at once. And she was mine. Ours.
She stirred slightly, her eyes fluttering open. When she saw me watching her, she smiled, a genuine smile that made her dimples appear, and not in the forced way that she used whenshe was streaming. "Morning," she whispered, her voice husky from sleep.
"Morning," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. I reached out, tucking a strand of pink hair behind her ear. Her scent hit me then, stronger than ever. Spun sugar and chili pepper, with that underlying note of vanilla that made my mouth water.
Her eyes met mine, and I saw the question there. The same one that had been echoing in my mind since last night. Are you ready?
I nodded, a small movement, but it was enough. Her smile widened, and she shifted closer, her body pressing against mine. I could feel her heartbeat, steady and sure, against my chest.
"I want to bite you, Theodore," she said, her voice steady and sure. "I want you to bite me."
