7. Theo
Chapter seven
Theo
V aelin’s family is everything I never knew I was missing.
They’re warm in a way I didn’t think people could be–complete strangers, welcoming me into their home and treating me like kin. His mother fusses over me like I’m one of her own, piling my plate with pastries and refilling my cider before it’s even finished. His father listens with the kind of calm patience that makes you feel seen, and it reminds me of my own. Calliope teases and taunts, but it’s all good-natured…and mostly delivered at Vaelin.
And Vaelin? Well, he tries to act like he’s above it all, like he’s somehow separate from this big, messy, wonderful family. But I catch the way he relaxes here, the way his eyes soften when his dad tells him he’s proud.
He loves these people, even if he’d prefer everyone think he’s just some mysterious rogue.
I try not to let myself get too comfortable; this isn’t my place, it’s Vaelin’s. But when his mother hands me another pastry and calls me ‘dear’, something in me cracks.
Maybe it’s selfish, but I let myself soak it in.
Later, as we exchange hugs and I stoop to leave the bakery, I don’t know what to say. I started this night thinking I would spend it alone, at the cheapest tavern I could find…
…and now, Vaelin is here.
I don’t want this night to end.
I turn to him, open and close my mouth. He glances at me, then cocks an eyebrow. “You good?” he asks.
“I was just…” I pause. “Your family’s incredible.”
“They’re alright,” he shrugs.
“Alright?” I shake my head. “Vaelin, they’re amazing. They just–” I pause, trying to find the words. “They love you. It’s so obvious.”
He doesn’t say anything, just stuffs his hands in his pockets and keeps walking. I frown, falling into step beside him.
“You don’t appreciate them, do you?”
He stops abruptly, spinning to face me. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
I hold my hands up. “I just mean…not everyone gets to have a family like yours.”
His jaw tightens. I think he’s about to say something cruel–then he rakes a hand through his hair and growls. “I know they’re great,” he mutters. “I just…it’s complicated.”
“Why?”
“Because they don’t approve of my work.”
“Really? What could they possibly—”
“It’s complicated.”
I pause and really look at him. “Why is everything complicated with you?”
He scowls.
I immediately feel guilty.
“Sorry,” I mutter. “That was unfair.”
“No,” he says. “You’re…you’re right. But…I just don’t really know you that well and I’d rather leave it at that, okay?”
I nod, unsure of what to say. I want to understand him, but Vaelin keeps himself so tightly guarded. He invited me to his family home, I talked to his parents, his sister–but I still don’t really know much about him. It feels like I’m trying to smash through a brick wall.
And that is, of course, difficult for me to imagine.
I’ve never had a problem smashing through walls.
We stop at the edge of a little park, the trees strung with lanterns that cast a soft, golden glow. There's a family of dwarves skating on the small pond at the center of the park, their children laughing. Vaelin leans against a low stone wall, watching them before his gaze snaps to me, accusatory.
“What is it about you?” he asks.
I blink. “What?”
“You,” he says, gesturing vaguely. “You’re…you. All big and kind and…irritatingly noble. You’re exhausting, you know that?”
I raise an eyebrow. “How am I exhausting?”
He steps closer, looking me over like he can figure this out with some visual cue.. “You’re just…too much,” he says. “Too big, too loud, too…good.”
I blink, thrown off by the shift in his tone. “Good?”
“Yes, good.” He says it like it’s some kind of accusation, his words sharp but not cruel. “You go around handing out your last coins, sharing memories of your mom, and charming my parents like it’s nothing. Like it’s…easy.”
I frown, trying to follow his logic. “I don’t do those things because they’re easy. I do them because they’re right.”
He shakes his head, his jaw tight. “You don’t even realize it, do you?”
“Realize what?”
“How infuriating you are.”
I open my mouth to respond, but before I can, he steps closer, his hand brushing against mine. It’s such a small thing—barely a touch—but it feels like the world tilts on its axis.
“Vaelin,” I breathe.
He looks up at me, and for the first time, I see something raw and unguarded in his eyes. Something that makes my chest feel tight.
“You make it hard to keep my distance,” he says quietly.
His hand slides into mine, and I squeeze it gently, pulling him closer. He's so much smaller than me…I just want to pull him into my arms, but I'm pretty sure he would hate that.
“Back at dinner,” Vaelin says, “I didn't mean to embarrass you, but I just didn't know if you were interested–”
“In you?” I blurt out.
He huffs out a laugh. “Subtle.”
“Well, I just…I wanted to make it clear I am interested–”
“Will you just shut up and kiss me?”
We meet halfway–Vaelin standing on his tiptoes and practically launching himself at me, while I reach around his waist and pull him into my arms. Then he's kissing me, sliding his fingers into my hair, and it feels so right.
The kiss is messy and a little frantic. I don't know what I'm doing, I've only ever kissed one boy during my training and it was so awkward I don't care to remember it. Locked up like I was, I didn't have a chance…
…but now, the only person I want to kiss for the rest of my life is Vaelin.
When we finally pull apart, I’m out of breath, my heart pounding so hard it feels like it might burst out of my chest. Vaelin looks up at me, his face unreadable–still in my arms. “You’re ridiculous,” he says, but there’s no bite to the words.
“You kissed me back,” I point out.
He huffs, his lips twitching like he’s trying not to smile. “Don’t let it go to your head.”
I grin, warmth blooming in my chest. “Too late.”
He tilts his head, kissing me again–softer this time and somehow even more sensual. I hold him closer, my heart racing, and he rests his forehead against mine when he pulls away this time.
“Hey,” he says. “I know it's fast, but you said you don't have anywhere to go and if you want to come back to mine–”
He's interrupted by a twinkling chime as a bolt of light streaks across the sky. It falls toward us and I try to move Vaelin out of the way, but he extends his hand and catches it. He lands solidly on his feet when I drop him in surprise, and he grins at me, holding it out.
It's a paper star, neatly folded, arcane energy swirling around it.
“Shooting star,” he says, “from Garnok.”
“Who?”
“My orc friend,” he says. “He wants to meet you. Then…after, if you want to–”
I interrupt him with a kiss, pulling him toward me and ducking to kiss him. My hand dwarfs his face as I let my lips do the talking, saying yes… yes , please take me home with you. He pulls away with a genuine smile, maybe the first I've seen.
“I'll take that as a yes,” he says.
I nod, grinning. “An ecstatic yes.”