23. Lucien
LUCIEN
I have hunted demons across realms. I have tracked creatures through realms. I once followed a soul thief through an active volcano because the bastard thought lava would hide his scent. None of that prepared me for a tent.
I stand in the middle of the clearing with my hands on my hips, glaring at the pile of green fabric on the ground. The picture on the box promised me a spacious two-person tent with a waterproof exterior, built-in storage, and an easy ten-minute setup.
The box is a fucking liar.
“Do you need help?” Sparkle asks from behind me.
“No.” I pick up another metal pole and try to figure out which of the seven thousand little fabric loops it’s supposed to go through.
“You’ve been fighting with it for twenty minutes.”
“I’m not fighting with it.” A metal pole snaps free from whatever infernal configuration I’ve created and smacks me directly in the thigh.
I suck in a breath and glare at it before slowly turning toward Sparkle.
He already has a hand over his mouth, his green eyes sparkling with poorly contained laughter. “Not. One. Word.”
That does it. He doubles over, laughing as his fluffy white tail swishes wildly behind him.
At least he looks adorable while enjoying my suffering.
He’s wearing jeans, hiking boots, and a soft green sweater beneath a puffy vest. I told him to dress comfortably and wear something he didn’t mind getting dirty, and apparently Sparkle’s version of camping attire still includes glitter on his cheeks.
I approve.
“You said you knew how to camp.” Sparkle wipes beneath his eyes as he straightens.
“I said I knew what camping was.”
“You said, and I quote, ‘How difficult could it possibly be?’” He grabs the instructions from where I abandoned them on top of the cooler and unfolds them.
“That sounds like something I might have said.”
“It was three hours ago.” Sparkle turns the instructions sideways, his ears twitching as he studies the little diagrams. After a moment, he points toward the tent. “You put these poles in backward.”
“I followed the instructions.”
“You threw the instructions on the cooler ten minutes ago.”
“Because they were hindering my creativity.”
Sparkle lowers the paper and gives me a long look. I point at the collapsed tent with one of the poles. “Would you like to take over?”
“Nope.” He folds the instructions and hands them back to me before settling onto the cooler. “You planned the date. I’m enjoying the show.”
The Guide said cute dates. Camping is cute. I researched it.
Granted, I researched it for about forty-five minutes after Sparkle agreed to come, but the human internet made the process look straightforward.
Tent. Campfire. Food. Nature. Maybe a lake.
Definitely stars. It seemed like the perfect opportunity to take Sparkle somewhere quiet where nobody needed anything from either of us.
I might have underestimated the amount of manual labor involved.
I grab the pole again and try to feed it through the right loop this time. “You know, I could snap my fingers and have this entire campsite assembled.”
“No magic.” Sparkle crosses one ankle over the other and smiles at me from his perch on the cooler.
My head whips toward him. “Excuse me?”
“You said we were going camping. If you use magic to do everything, we’re just sitting outside.”
“We would be sitting outside comfortably.”
“No magic.”
“You’re cruel.”
His eyes sparkle as he props his chin on his hand. “You like me.”
Unfortunately, he has me there.
It takes another fifteen minutes and one argument with a tent stake before we finally have something vaguely resembling the picture on the box. I step back and admire our creation while Sparkle comes to stand beside me, his shoulder bumping against my arm.
But before we can admire our handiwork, one side folds inward and takes the rest of the tent with it.
Sparkle slowly turns his head toward me. I refuse to look at him as I pick up the instructions again. “Not. One. Word.”
His laughter follows me all the way back to the cooler.
Eventually, we get the tent standing again, though I have absolutely no faith in its structural integrity.
Sparkle crawls inside to arrange the blankets and pillows while I unpack everything else.
I bought enough supplies for like six people because every camping website had a different list of necessities and I decided it was better to be prepared.
Apparently, we need flashlights even though we can see in the dark. We need a lantern, despite the fact that I can create magical light.
Sparkle looks to the firepit. “I’m starting the fire.”
I follow him over to the firepit. “Do you know how?”
“Nope.” Sparkle grins, and I can’t help but smile back.
Twenty minutes later, we have smoke. So much fucking smoke.
Sparkle crouches beside the pit, blowing on the pathetic little flame while I wave smoke away from my face. His ears are flattened, and there’s a black smudge across his cheek that I desperately want to wipe away, but I have a feeling that might interfere with his current battle against nature.
“More sticks,” he orders, holding out his hand.
I find one and place it in his palm.
“Smaller.”
I find a smaller one.
There’s a look of disgust on his pretty face and he drops the stick. “Dry.”
I look from the stick to him. “They’re all made of tree, Sparkle.”
Sparkle snorts and returns his attention to the fire. The tiny flame catches another twig, then another, and his whole face lights up. He makes an excited noise and grabs my wrist. “Look! We made fire.”
I crouch beside him and admire our tiny creation. Unfortunately, the flame immediately goes out.
We stare at the smoking pile between us until Sparkle sighs. “Damn.”
“Magic?” I ask hopefully.
His shoulders slump. “Magic.”
“Thank fuck.” I snap my fingers, and the fire roars to life. Sparkle drops backward onto his ass and starts laughing, and I sit beside him in the grass. “We are not terrible at this. We successfully erected a shelter.”
We both glance toward the tent. It’s leaning farther to the left now.
Sparkle laughs harder.
Eventually, we give up pretending we have anything to prove. I use magic to stabilize the tent, Sparkle finds the food, and we settle into two folding chairs beside the fire. This is much better.
The sky darkens around us while the woods fill with nighttime sounds. Sparkle keeps turning his head whenever something rustles, his ears swiveling independently toward every noise. I try not to stare at them. I fail.
“What?” he asks, catching me again.
“Your ears are doing things.”
“They’re listening.”
“I know. It’s adorable.” I hand him a roasting stick with a marshmallow shoved onto the end before preparing one for myself. “I researched this part extensively.”
“You watched a video, didn’t you?”
“Several.” I needed to know how to make the perfect s’more.
Sparkle holds his marshmallow over the fire, slowly turning the stick between his fingers. “How many marshmallows have you roasted in your centuries of existence?”
“This will be my first.”
His head turns toward me, and the teasing leaves his expression. “Really?” A soft smile spreads across his face. “Mine too.”
We hold our sticks over the flames together. Mine catches fire almost immediately, and I yank it back. “Oh, shit.”
“Blow it out!” Sparkle waves frantically at it.
“I know how fire works.” I blow out the flame and inspect the blackened remains.
Sparkle leans closer and gives the crusty outside a poke. “You murdered it.”
“It died honorably.”
He snorts and shifts his own marshmallow closer to the flames. It promptly catches fire, too.
I point at it. “Murderer.”
“Shut up!” He blows frantically, gets a face full of smoke, and starts coughing and laughing at the same time. I reach over and pat his back until he catches his breath, unable to stop laughing with him.
Our second attempts are much better. By the third, Sparkle decides he likes his marshmallows nearly burned anyway, so my original technique was apparently perfect. We eat far too many, forgetting I had all the parts to make s’mores.
At some point, Sparkle abandons his chair and settles onto the blanket I spread beside the fire. I join him, stretching my legs toward the warmth, and he scoots closer until our shoulders touch. For a while, neither of us talks.
I can’t remember the last time I did this. Nothing. Absolutely fucking nothing. No club. No employees. No tracking. No demons demanding favors. Nobody shouting my name because something broke.
Sparkle isn’t doing anything, either. His face is tipped toward the sky, the firelight catching in his eyes while his tail curls loosely beside him.
“You okay?” I ask.
“Mmhmm.” His gaze stays on the stars.
I follow his gaze. Without the city lights, there are thousands of stars overhead.
“I never do this,” Sparkle says.
“Camp?”
“Sit.” He leans back on his hands and stretches his legs out beside mine. “I mean, I sit. Obviously. But usually because I’m eating or folding something or helping Ferris with homework or working. Even when I watch TV, I usually have something else I’m doing.”
I understand that better than I’d like.
Sparkle’s tail curls around his legs as he stares into the fire. “I kept thinking today that I should check on Mama. Or the kittens. Then I remembered Papa’s home. My sisters are home. Mama can handle herself. Nobody needs me.”
Something in his voice makes me reach for his hand. Sparkle looks down as I weave our fingers together, and I brush my thumb over his knuckles. “Do you hate that?”
He thinks about it for a moment. “I thought I would.”
“And now?”
His thumb moves slowly against mine. “I think I like being wanted better.”
I bring his hand to my mouth and press a kiss to his knuckles. “I want you here. Not because I need you to do anything, although you did save my club the other night.”
“You’re hiring a manager,” he reminds me, his ears tilting toward me.
“I am. Look at me, accepting constructive criticism and growing as a person.”
Sparkle laughs softly. “I’m proud of you.”
“Thank you. It’s been difficult.”
He squeezes my hand before resting his head against my shoulder. My tail slides behind him and curls loosely around his waist. I don’t feel compelled to fill the silence this time.
Maybe this is what dates are supposed to be. Not plans. Not Guide steps. Not proving I can romance him better than anyone has ever been romanced. Just this. A pretty kitty leaning against me while our terrible tent struggles for its life twenty feet away.
A horrible ripping noise comes from behind us. Sparkle lifts his head, and I close my eyes.
Sparkle gets to his feet and grabs my hand, hauling me up after him. “We’re fixing the tent.”
I pout. “Why?”
“Because I’m not letting a piece of fabric beat us.”
Ten minutes later, Sparkle is halfway beneath the collapsed tent while I try to pull one of the poles free.
“Stop pushing!” His muffled voice comes from somewhere beneath the green fabric.
“I’m not pushing!”
“Something is touching me!”
“That’s my tail.” I try to lift another section of fabric so I can find him. “I’m trying to figure out where you are.”
A pole pops free. The entire tent shifts, Sparkle yelps, and I lose my balance. A second later, we’re both tangled in fabric on the ground.
For several seconds, neither of us moves.
Then Sparkle starts laughing, a full-body, wheezing laugh that makes the tent shake around us.
I start laughing too because this is fucking ridiculous.
I could teleport us out. I could rebuild the tent with magic.
Instead, I’m trapped beneath several pounds of outdoor equipment with a cat shifter who apparently considers surrender a personal failing.
Sparkle finds me beneath the fabric and grabs my shirt. “We suck at camping.”
He laughs again, and then we both seem to realize exactly how close we are. His laughter slowly fades as his eyes drop to my mouth. I know that look. I cup the back of his neck and kiss him.
There isn’t anything tentative about it this time. His mouth moves against mine while his fingers curl into the front of my shirt, and I pull him closer until his chest presses against mine. His purr starts almost immediately, vibrating between us as my hand settles at his waist.
That sound.
Sparkle shifts until he’s partly over me, the collapsed tent forgotten around us. His tail curls around my leg as he kisses me again, then again, each kiss lingering a little longer until I can’t remember why I ever thought fireworks could improve this.
When he pulls back enough to breathe, I chase his mouth and steal another kiss. Sparkle laughs against my lips. He kisses me again.
Eventually, Sparkle rests his forehead against mine. His cheeks are pink, his lips a little swollen from kissing, and his eyes are so bright.
“This was better than the cat café,” he whispers.
“I liked the cat café.”
“An orange cat insulted my mother.”
“He was an asshole, and I don’t even speak the language.”
Sparkle smacks my shoulder, and I laugh before stealing another kiss. Something cold lands on my cheek while I’m still smiling against his mouth, followed by another drop against my forehead.
Sparkle looks upward, even though all we can see is green tent fabric. The pattering gets louder. Sparkle’s eyes widen.
Water begins leaking through the collapsed fabric and dripping onto us. Sparkle bursts out laughing as I glare at the steadily darkening patch above my head.
“I planned this date very carefully!”
“You checked the weather, right?”
I say nothing.
Rain pours harder against the tent. Sparkle stares at me for one long second before grabbing my face and kissing me again.
When he pulls away, he’s grinning. “Hotel?”
“Thank fuck.”
I snap my fingers, and the forest disappears. So does the rain, the collapsed tent, the fire, and every other piece of camping equipment I am absolutely not coming back for tonight.
We land in a warm hotel room still tangled together, Sparkle laughing against my chest. I tighten my arms around him and kiss the top of one fluffy ear. “Camping was a success.”
Sparkle leans back enough to look at me. “Your standards are concerning.”
“You had fun.”
“I did.” Sparkle smiles up at me, his arms still looped around my neck. “Thank you.”
“For the worst camping trip in recorded history?”
“For taking me somewhere.” The joke dies on my tongue as his expression softens. He toys with the collar of my shirt, his gaze dropping to his fingers. “I told you I wanted adventures. I meant it. Even if we’re terrible at them.”
I brush a damp strand of hair away from his forehead. “We can be terrible at a lot of things together, darling.”
Sparkle’s purr starts again, and then he kisses me. I don’t try to make the moment bigger. I don’t need fireworks or cannon fire. I don’t need eleven steps written on glittery pink paper telling me how to make Sparkle fall for me. I just wrap my arms around my pretty kitty and kiss him back.