Chapter 14 #2
"I had a good teacher." She stood, stretching muscles that protested hours of sitting. "And really good tools. These would've taken me days with what I had before."
"Technology provides efficiency, but it’s skill that provides quality." He moved closer, his hand reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "You have skill, Talia. I merely provided tools to take advantage of that skill."
The gentle touch sent shivers down her spine. She leaned into it without thinking, her body drawn to his warmth like a moth to flame. Bad analogy. Moths die. But she couldn't make herself pull away. Not when he was looking at her like that, unable to hide the desire in his eyes.
"Klaus—"
"I should check on Nimbus." His hand dropped away but he didn't step back. "To ensure his condition remains stable."
"You checked him an hour ago."
"The verification of medical status requires regular monitoring."
"That's an excuse."
"Yes,” he said quietly. "I find myself inventing reasons to maintain my proximity to you. It is inefficient and potentially problematic but I cannot seem to stop."
Her heart stuttered. "I don't want you to stop."
"Talia." Her name sounded like a prayer and a warning combined. "I am not... I have limited experience with this, with wanting someone.”
"We can figure it out together." She closed the distance between them, her hands coming up to rest on the broad expanse of his chest. "I'm not exactly an expert either. But I know what I want."
"What do you want?"
"You." The word felt like jumping off a cliff. "I want you, Klaus. However that looks. For however long we have."
His hands settled on her waist, pulling her closer with careful strength. "I want you also. In ways I lack proper vocabulary to express. You have become... important to me. Essential, even."
"Essential is good." She slid her arms around his neck. "I like essential."
His gaze dropped to her lips. "I should maintain an appropriate distance to prevent complications that could compromise our situation."
"Or you could kiss me."
"That would be inadvisable."
"Probably." Her fingers traced the line of his jaw, feeling his muscle tense beneath pale skin. "Are you going to let that stop you?"
"No."
His mouth claimed hers with controlled intensity that made her knees weak. Not roughly—he had too much discipline for that—but thoroughly, deliberately, like he was memorizing the taste of her through sheer focus.
She melted into him, her hands sliding up to tangle in the silky strands of his long white hair. He made a sound low in his throat, something between approval and surrender, and deepened the kiss.
God. He kissed like he did everything else—with complete attention and devastating thoroughness. When they finally broke apart, both breathing hard, she felt dizzy with need.
"That was..." His voice had gone rough. "Unexpected."
"Bad unexpected?"
"Optimal unexpected." His thumb gently traced her lower lip. "I find I want to repeat the experience. Extensively."
"I'm not opposed to that plan."
But even as she said it, reality crept back in.
They were standing in a workshop at midnight.
Theo slept in the house. Nimbus needed monitoring.
Tomorrow would come early with its construction projects and toy assembly.
Responsibilities that couldn't be ignored just because she wanted to drag him somewhere private and explore exactly how far his control extended.
Later, she promised herself again. When Theo's occupied and we have time.
He seemed to reach the same conclusion. He stepped back carefully, his hands sliding away from her waist with obvious reluctance.
"You should rest. Tomorrow will be demanding."
"So should you."
"I will. After checking Nimbus and verifying the structural integrity of the workshop repairs."
"Klaus." She caught his hand. "You don't have to find excuses to be useful. You just... are. Useful. Important. Essential, like you said."
Something in his expression softened, a hint of vulnerability flickering across features that were usually kept so carefully controlled.
"I am accustomed to proving value through function. Being valued for simply existing is..." He paused, searching for words. "Unfamiliar."
"Get used to it." She squeezed his hand. "You're stuck with us now. Nimbus too."
"Stuck." He tested the word. "Some would interpret that as a constraint, a limitation of freedom."
"What do you interpret it as?"
He looked at her with those impossibly blue eyes, his expression open in ways she was learning to treasure.
"Home," he said quietly. "I interpret it as home."
Her throat went tight. She pulled him down for another kiss, this one soft and sweet and aching with everything she couldn't say.
I'm falling for you. I'm falling so hard and I don't know how to stop.
But she didn't say it, couldn't say it, not when their time together had an expiration date. Not when saying it out loud would make the ending hurt worse. So she kissed him instead, pouring her feelings into action, and tried not to think about seventy-two days.
When they finally separated, he rested his forehead against hers. "You are a complication I did not anticipate."
"Same."
"But not an unwelcome one."
"Definitely not unwelcome." She stepped back before she could change her mind about waiting. "Goodnight, Klaus."
"Goodnight, Talia."
She made herself walk away. Made herself climb the path to the house without looking back. Made herself go through her normal bedtime routine. But when she finally crawled into bed, her lips still tingled from his kisses and her body hummed with frustrated desire.
Sleep, she commanded herself. You need sleep.
But her mind kept replaying moments. His hands on her waist. His mouth claiming hers. The way he'd said home like it was a revelation.
She stared at the ceiling and tried not to calculate how many more nights like this she'd have. Tried not to imagine what would happen when his ship was fixed and duty called him back to space. Tried not to acknowledge the truth her heart had already accepted—she was falling in love with him. She’d probably been falling since he'd helped her repair Glimmerhorn.
Since he'd looked at Theo with understanding instead of pity.
Since he'd carried an injured reindeer home instead of bringing back meat.
Fuck.
Falling in love with Klaus—logical, damaged, impossibly sweet Klaus—was the worst possible decision.
But her heart didn't care about bad decisions. It just kept beating his name in a steady rhythm, counting down the days until goodbye while hoping for miracles she knew better than to expect. She pulled her blanket higher and squeezed her eyes shut against the tears that wanted to fall.
Tomorrow, she told herself. Worry about it tomorrow.
But tomorrow always came too fast, and the number of days would keep shrinking while her feelings would only grow.
Somewhere in the workshop, he was probably running calculations and fighting the same battle.
Duty versus desire. Logic versus emotion.
She wondered which side was winning. She wondered if it even mattered.
Because whatever happened with his ship, with his mission, with the careful walls he'd built around his heart—they only had these moments. These stolen nights in the workshop and the careful kisses and the feelings neither of them knew how to name.
She decided to stop fighting it, to stop trying to protect herself from the inevitable hurt. If she only had seventy-something days with Klaus, she'd make every single one count. Even if it destroyed her when he left.
Because he’s worth it.
And finally, hours after she should have, she fell asleep with his name on her lips and a stubborn hope in her chest despite all logic screaming otherwise.