Chapter Twenty-Seven • Killing Time • Lillith
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Istare at Damien’s last message as the sun rises outside. Gloam snuggles into my side, slow-blinking at my face staring at the pale glow of my phone screen. My heart sits in my chest, simultaneously heavy and light all at once.
Yeah. I love you too, Little Bird.
He got it. I spent so much time worrying he wouldn’t get it, but he did.
And now I’m lying in bed wondering if it would be silly for me to call him at five-thirty in the morning when he left less than twenty-four hours ago.
Is it so bad for a girl to be disgustingly mushy with her hot drummer boyfriend?
As if I summoned him, a photo comes through in my messages.
It takes me a few seconds to parse out what I’m seeing.
It’s a photo from up on a second floor, a sort of top-down view of the couch.
A dark head of hair propped up on a fist, the rest of the body slack in sleep.
And Wren’s head propped up on the first person’s lap.
A small waste basket sits next to her on the floor, along with some Gatorade and a half-empty bottle of water.
Wren got super car sick on the way up the mountain. Tons of switchbacks on the 330. And I think the altitude fucked with her too.
Oh no. She slept on the couch? Wren’s one of those people that once she starts puking she seriously can’t stop. :((
Well—when I went to bed, she was in her room. I’m guessing she came out to run to the toilet while Tosh was doing his insomnia bullshit.
Oh my god... Satoshi took care of her?
Appears so. It’s a shame too. I was looking forward to him shooting his shot before crashing and burning hard with Wren.
It’s so weirdly sweet. Like... I kind of love them for each other?
They definitely share an abrasiveness that works.
I smile to myself. He already has Wren pegged, which is amazing.
What are you doing up, sweetheart?
Admiring the message where you told me you love me.
Yeah?
Mhm. <3
You up for a phone call? Or is the sun too absent for that?
No. Call me.
My phone rings about ten seconds later, and I pick up at the first ring while Gloam chirps her complaints at the noise.
“Hey,” I say, my voice soft.
“Hey,” he says, the fry in his throat making his voice sound ever so slightly richer. My skin ripples with goose bumps in response,
“So, what are you doing up?” I ask.
“Euuuh, well,” he says. “Going for a half-awake piss, actually.”
I snort a laugh. “Nice.”
“I guess I should have done that before I called,” he says.
“You a nervous pee-er?” I ask.
“You don’t need to hear the thunderous stream of my broken pee-fast,” he says.
“Majestic,” I say.
“Who needs waterfalls when you can just call me for my 5:30 pee each day?” he teases. “Anyway. I can hold it.”
“I can’t believe we’re joking about peeing. Isn’t this, like... year three material?”
“When you know, you know,” he says. “For you, I’m willing to share the vulnerability of my mid-morning pee. You’re welcome—Oh shit, hang on—”
I hear the slide of a glass door and then hear it shut before he continues. “Sorry, Tosh was starting to stir. I didn’t want to burst the bubble.”
“No worries,” I say through a yawn. “You miss me yet?”
“Duh,” he says. “You sleep okay?”
“Yeah. I went to bed super early. I guess I do that when someone isn’t keeping me awake,” I say.
“Don’t worry, we’ll make up for all the sleep when I get back to Del Lune. What are you getting up to today?”
“Mmm, aside from the shop, I’ll probably head down to The Buried City and get some work done with Bastion,” I say. “It’ll make the hours feel shorter. I’m already counting them down until I get to see you again.”
“Me too,” he says through another yawn.
I chuckle. “Damien, go pee and get back in bed.”
“I’m fine, I promise,” he says and then yawns. Again.
“Don’t you have a show tonight?” I ask.
“Yeah...”
“Go to bed. I’ll be here when you have time later,” I promise him. “You need to get sleep if you’re going to do the thing later.”
“Well, maybe I don’t want to do the thing,” he says. “Maybe I just wanna sit on this deck and watch the sunrise while I talk to my girlfriend. Who I’m in love with.”
My cheeks hurt from smiling, my stomach bottoms out in the best way. “And maybe I want my boyfriend, who I’m in love with, to sleep well so he can blow everyone’s eardrums out later tonight.”
“I can still play loud when I’m tired.”
“Nothing like a yawning drummer to get an audience in the mood.”
“You’re being a little shit,” he teases. “Let me be obsessed with you, thanks.”
I chuckle before giving a begrudging, “Alright. Fine.”
“You know, I really love this ring you made me,” he says. “I just stare at it all the time. I’m starting to feel like Gollum.”
“My precious...” I joke.
“That was fucking uncanny,” he says. “And somehow seductive. Do it again.”
“Absolutely not,” I say, laughing so hard that Gloam flees my stomach with a petulant quack of a meow for disturbing her sleep again.
“Oh, come on. One more time.”
“Why can’t you just ask for nudes like a normal slutty musician?”
“Are you adding kink-shaming to your slut-shaming now? We’re not supposed to yuck each other’s yums, Lillith,” he says.
“I’m starting to think I have to hide my proclivities from you.
If you can’t take me at my desire to be seduced by a decrepit hobbit, then you don’t deserve me at my edging pleasure Dom. ”
“Those things should be oxymorons,” I retort.
“The duality of man,” he says.
“You contain multitudes,” I agree.
“When are you heading out to work with Bastion BilliardBall?”
I snort a laugh and sigh. “Probably around three. Shop closes early today.”
“Do you have service in The Buried City?”
“For the most part, except for a few places,” I say.
“How does that work? With the whole interdimensional thing?”
“Magic.”
“Right, right,” he says with a chuckle. “Man, it’s hard getting used to it. That all this stuff is just... real.”
“Does it ever freak you out?” I ask.
“No, actually. Which surprises me. Now that I’ve seen it all, I just sort of take it for granted as fact. Hard to describe. I guess I can’t really float the cognitive dissonance now that I’ve been there in the flesh, you know?”
“Mhm,” I say. “Everything’s easier to accept when you can touch it.”
“Why don’t you tell everyone? Like—why not just be honest about it?” he asks.
“On average, about how well would you say the general populace treats people who are strange, or different, or even just not as pretty as other people?”
“Touche,” he says. “It’s just... kind of a bummer, you know? I wish the guys could know. I wish they all knew how incredible you are.”
I smile into the phone, my heart doing somersaults. “As long as you think I’m incredible, that’s all I care about.”
“I do, Lillith. You’re a damned miracle, I swear.”
We continue on like that for a while. Taking turns being embarrassingly into each other.
I hear the chirp of birdsong in the background after he puts me on speaker.
We fall into a companionable silence, and after ten or so minutes pass like that he stops responding to my gentle prods for his attention. He must have fallen asleep.
I leave the call going as I check the weather to make sure it’s warm enough for him to be sleeping outside, then I text Wren and ask her to look in on him if she’s feeling up to it when she wakes up.
After a while, I fall asleep too—getting a couple more hours of shut-eye before my phone buzzes next to my ear and wakes me up.
When I squint at the screen in my dark bedroom, I see that Damien has texted me.
Thanks for the long-distance morning doze, Little Bird. I’ll call you after the show tonight. I love you so fucking much.
I smile at the text message and am about to reply when a haughty voice makes me practically leap out of my skin.
“Gods, I hope you never made a face like that when I texted you,” Bastion says.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Bastion!” I yelp. “Why the fuck are you in my house?!”
He examines his well-manicured nails, bored. “Did you forget I have access through the wards?”
“No, asshole, I didn’t,” I gripe. “And I have the go-ahead with your wards, too. Yet you don’t see me just waltzing into your home like I own the place with no warning.”
“I don’t see what the problem is. We’ve known each other since we were children. We’ve seen each other naked, had sex… Why do I need to give you warning? It’s not as if I’ll walk in on you in a compromising position or some measure of indecency.”
“Bastion, I have a boyfriend now,” I tell him.
“Who I knew wasn’t here—so I knew you wouldn’t be fucking him. Lillith, what is the problem?”
I groan and pull my duvet over my head. “Bastion. Go. Away.”
“Now that’s just a silly request,” he says. “You’re meant to come see me this afternoon anyway.”
“This. AFTERNOON.”
“Yes, I’m going to walk you to The Buried City—I’m being a gentleman.”
“Why bother? You’ve never made a fuss over it before.”
“You weren’t bereft of the Nightingale Pearl before,” he says, his tone honing to a sharpened edge. “We weren’t down one generational witch with a penchant for protections before. You weren’t distracted by puppy love before, Lillith.”
I take a long moment to sigh and finally pull the duvet down just enough that my eyes can meet his.
His shapely brows carve a frustrated line over his eyes, but there’s an earnest glint in his eyes—in the set of his lips.
I’m reminded again that, while he can be quite selfish and inconsiderate at times, and rude and callous, he does have a good heart buried in there... somewhere.
He steps further into my room and sits a polite distance away on the edge of my bed. It’s benign—completely devoid of the intimacy between us the time he tied me up and took my virginity—stripped of any reverence or worship he held during Beltane last year.
Bastion meets my eyes for a long time before he folds his hands in his lap and crosses his legs at the ankle. “Lillith, what exactly is this strain between us?” he asks. “I know I’m wont to prioritize myself, and that I can be direct—”
“Dickish,” I correct.