6. A New Love #2
Willa tucked some of her black hair behind her elven ear, giggled girlishly, and said, “I know who you are, of course. It’s nice to meet you, My Lord.”
“Please. Call me Noble.”
Aria took one step away, to see if his retreat would be noticed.
It was not. He backed away again, a few more steps, and left the two to chat alone.
He wasn’t needed there. He made it to the back corner of the gallery, where hors d'oeuvres were served next to the wine.
He held a little potato cake in one hand, a little glass of red in the other, and found a stool recently abandoned by a party-goer.
Aria tucked himself there, into the corner, and watched Noble charm Willa for the rest of the night.
For a reason he could not quite discern—perhaps for his own entertainment, now alone among the thinning crowd of art connoisseurs—he took a healthy drink of his wine every time he heard Willa laugh at something Noble said.
Aria and Noble stumbled home late—at nearly two in the morning—and both were drunk enough that they had to help one another pull off their boots, incapable of coordinating themselves through their giggles and whispers to keep quiet. No waking the neighbors!
The pair fell into the front sitting room of the townhome, tripping on the threshold and one another.
First, Aria flopped on the couch, feet raised halfway into the air for Noble to wrestle with.
Once his boots were shucked, Aria traded places with Noble, and knelt to unlace his boots and pull them free.
They fell, thunk-thunk, to the hardwood floor.
Aria laughed again, kneeling with knees pressed against the floor. He looked up from where he was between Noble’s spread legs, vision swimming, and said, “Hey.”
Noble stopped short of standing up, and looked down at Aria from beneath his glossy, flyaway curls. He swallowed and Aria couldn’t stop himself from watching the line of his throat. Noble croaked out, “Yes?”
Aria sniffed, the cold autumn air having left him shivering after their walk.
He pushed himself to his feet, stumbled, and landed halfway upon the sofa at Noble’s side.
Noble purred out a rumbling, drunken sound—Aria, you're a mess—and pulled him up until they were side by side. Aria, readjusted, placed a hand on Noble’s knee, wanting to touch him again. “You should start dating again.”
“What?”
“You should get out there. The plan’s working.
” Aria tucked himself close to Noble on the couch, drunk and smiling.
He placed his head on Noble’s shoulder, absorbing the warmth of him.
He wrapped his hands around Noble’s bicep, squeezed, and hugged it close.
His voice was half-muffled by Noble's shirt as he said, “We’re gonna get you a wife. We’re such a good team.
We can do anything together.” He sighed, eyes falling shut as Noble’s body chased away the autumn chill outside. “You and me.”
Noble reached over with his unencumbered hand and stroked Aria’s cheek. And then his hair. “Yeah, Aria. You and me.” Noble’s hand combed through the tangled strands, loosening knots. Aria sank into Noble’s touch, growing more and more relaxed against his heat—
And Aria had truly been drunk, because he woke hours later, in the morning, on the couch, beneath a heavy blanket, with a note from Noble that simply said out for the day. - N
NOBLE
Aria, after that drunken night at the gallery, seemed to have finally eschewed all pretense and touched Noble often and easily, more friendly and warm than Noble ever thought him capable of. They were well and truly friends now.
And Noble had nearly gotten used to seeing Aria in those absurdly tiny tunics he wore to sleep.
It was simply that he’d never seen someone with skin like his.
Virginia had been fair, but Aria seemed to have been crafted from a kind of milk glass.
He was so smooth and white, and light seemed to bend to reach him anywhere he went.
Noble couldn’t help that his eyes snapped to the exposed skin as often as they did—Aria had always been buttoned-up before now.
“Noble?” Aria peered up from where he was holding onto Noble’s arm again.
They settled upon Aria’s bed, side by side in their lounge clothes, while the sun crested overhead, and filled the townhome with glittering colorful beams of light through the stained glass skylights above.
Aria’s room was on the second floor—technically the darkest in the house—but the place had been designed with that in mind, and well-placed wall mirrors let the light bounce around.
Noble forced himself to look away from Aria’s sunlit face and thighs and skin and everything, and focused back upon the book he had open between his hands.
This was the compromise they finally reached about The Bard Bride: reading it together. Noble continued to recite the passage aloud. “And Eleanor threw herself out the window, knowing not if the river would catch her below.” He paused and said, “Whoa.”
“Whoa what?” Aria squeezed the arm he had in his grasp. “What happens next?”
“The chapter ends there.”
Aria sat up with a gasp. “What? No.”
Noble turned the book to show him the remaining blank page. “I speak true.”
“But such a fall could kill her,” said Aria, shifting to his knees, as if his argument could change the words Noble read. “Even with her bardic spells—mending broken bones is only possible if she’s the components. She doesn’t!"
Noble smiled at Aria’s concern, sitting up against his pillows at the head of the bed. “Alright, alright. Let’s read on. One more chapter.”
Aria groaned, visibly frustrated, and grabbed Noble’s wrist. He leaned in to read his watch and said, “We can’t. You need to go get ready.”
Noble withheld a sigh. He had a date. His first one in six years. “I’m not feeling well anyway,” said Noble. “I think perhaps I’m coming down with a cold. I’ll cancel. Send Morgan to the restaurant with roses or something.”
Aria crossed his arms over himself, and the loose collar of his tunic exposed his smooth, flat chest. Noble focused instead on the one slender brow he raised in judgment. Aria said, “You are not sick. Come on. Get up.”
Noble feigned a cough. “I haven’t the strength.” The bed was so comfortable. Aria was so comfortable. Why was he dating at all?
Aria jumped forward, fingers ignited with a lightning spell, and zapped him against his ribs. “Up. Go bathe. You stink.”
Noble made it a point to whine and moan as he crawled out of the bed. “At least come pick out what I’ll wear. You can’t ask someone dying of sickness to choose his own funeral attire.”
Aria rolled his eyes, but didn’t argue, and followed Noble—who faked another cough as he went—up the stairs to his own suite.
His bedroom was similar to the one Aria resided in, but whereas Aria’s had dark green carpets, dark green bedding, and many brass accents, Noble’s was all burgundy and gold.
His wardrobe was also filled to the brim.
Aria actually laughed in shock as he opened the door and stared at the long row of coats and their matching pants, all pressed and ready to wear.
“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. Let’s see.
I think you look best in shades of blue.
” He stood on his tiptoes to reach the hangers, flexing his thin, exposed thighs, and Noble turned away to find…
Socks. Right. Socks, and underpants, and perhaps a few nice rings to wear. Maybe he really did need this date. He needed something, anything, to get excited about. He was losing his damn mind to the distracting, cozy home Aria helped him to build over the last few weeks.
Aria released an a-hem to get Noble’s attention. He turned back to see Aria’s pick—a navy semi-drape single-breasted suit, and a warm gray shirt to match. “This shirt needs cufflinks. What do you have?”
Noble guided Aria to a vanity and pulled open a drawer to reveal his many options. Aria considered them silently for some time and picked up two pairs. He held them in each hand and said, “Okay, you get final say. Which of these?”
One option was a silver sunburst with embedded red gemstones. The other set had an angular-cut blue stone set in a low-profile base. The stones were an almost perfect match to Aria’s eyes. He grabbed them before he realized he had.
“Yeah, those will look nice. Nicely coordinated.”
Noble placed them upon his nightstand, and Aria made his leave. Noble, again, moved without thinking. He took hold of Aria’s wrist. “You’re leaving? But I may perish in the water. You ought to sit with me while I wash.” Cough, cough, he faked. Cozy for just a short while longer.
Aria reached up to touch his forehead like one might test for fever. “Hm. You are a bit warm.”
“See?”
And then Aria flicked him. Right between his eyes. “You’re always warm.” He pulled his hand free and said, “I have to go anyway.”
“You? Whatever for? You’re going out tonight too?” Aria, instead of replying, glanced to the side with cheeks gone visibly pink. Noble had been joking, but. His tone shifted, surprised instead of teasing. “You’re going out tonight too.”
Aria smiled tightly and met Noble’s gaze. “I didn’t want to steal any of your thunder.”
“Impossible. As you’ve said, I’m the Sun God. Not Esterera.” The God of Storms.
Aria chuckled and said, “It’s that orc that runs the teashop on the corner?
Benj. I’d been in and out of there many times over the last week.
He’d come to recognize me. We chatted and…
” He shrugged, and that damned tunic slipped from one shoulder.
Noble grabbed the sleeve and righted it back onto him, hiding that milk glass skin.
Aria nodded in thanks, straightening the collar across his chest.
Noble asked, “He asked you to go out?”
“Yes. We’re going to go to a show in the Lantern District. A traveling troupe is here performing the Legend of Gurd at a theater there.”
Noble frowned. “I hate that story.”