Epilogue
SPARKLE
Six months later, I wake up in a patch of sunlight with a purple demon wrapped around me. There are worse ways to start a Saturday.
I stretch slowly, pushing my toes toward the bottom of the bed until my back arches and my tail goes stiff beneath the blankets.
Sunlight pours through the gap in the curtains and warms my face, and I turn toward it on instinct.
Lucien makes a sleepy noise behind me before his arm tightens around my waist and drags me backward against his chest.
“No,” he mumbles into my hair. “Stay.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” I wiggle around until I can face him, which is harder than it should be when his tail has somehow wrapped around both of my legs. “I was moving six inches.”
“Too far.”
His eyes stay closed as he buries his face against my neck.
One of his horns bumps the pillow, and I reach up to run my fingers through his messy hair.
Lucien spent the night again, though at this point it’s probably easier to count the nights he doesn’t.
He has clothes in my closet, fancy liquor in my kitchen, and a toothbrush beside mine.
Somehow he’s also responsible for at least half the ridiculous shit in my cat room despite claiming every new purchase is a gift and therefore doesn’t count as him moving in.
He doesn’t live here. He just has an alarming amount of stuff.
I’m still not ready to change that, though. I like waking up alone sometimes. I like having an entire apartment that belongs to me, and I even like missing Lucien when he goes home. There’s something wonderful about wanting someone instead of needing them, then getting excited when they come back.
Lucien finally cracks one eye open. “Why are you thinking so loudly?”
“I’m wondering when you’re going home.”
Both eyes fly open. “Cruel.”
I laugh as he rolls onto his back and clutches his chest. “You have to work tonight.”
“I have a manager. Which means I can now irresponsibly abandon it whenever I please.” He reaches for me again, but I scoot toward the edge of the mattress before he can drag me back. “Where are you going?”
“Breakfast. It’s Saturday.”
Understanding replaces the sleepy pout on his face. “Wick’s.”
“Yep.” I climb out of bed and grab the purple robe hanging from the back of my door. “And you promised you’d go with me to Mama’s afterward. Ferris has something he wants to show us.”
Lucien groans as he finally sits up. His hair sticks out in every direction, and the sight is so ridiculous that I have to bite back a laugh. “If that child asks me to teleport him to the demon realm again, the answer remains no.”
“He’s twelve. Of course, he wants to see the demon realm.”
“He asked if there were rivers of blood.”
“He was disappointed when you said no.”
“He called my realm boring.” Lucien reaches for the pants he abandoned on my floor last night. “Do you know how many beings would piss themselves if they knew a twelve-year-old cat shifter called the second ring of the demon realm boring?”
“Probably a lot.” It’s so hard to fight off the grin.
“Exactly.”
I leave him to his sulking and head toward the kitchen. My apartment is quiet, but it doesn’t feel empty anymore. I used to think those were the same thing. They aren’t. The quiet is mine.
I start coffee while Lucien gets dressed, then wander toward the window as I wait.
Morning sunlight fills the living room, catching the glitter in the little decorations scattered across my shelves.
My couch still has too many pillows according to Lucien and exactly the right number according to me.
There are even more pictures on the walls now too.
My family. My friends. One of Lucien holding a tiny kitten at the cat café while looking like someone handed him the secrets of the universe.
There’s even a picture of us with Big Mo. Lucien grins beside the giant mosasaurus while I look extremely pleased with myself for planning the date. I love that picture. I love this apartment. I love my life.
That last one still catches me sometimes.
Months ago, I thought freedom meant nobody needing me.
Turns out that isn’t quite right. My family still needs me sometimes.
Ferris calls when he needs help with homework.
Mama asks me to pick things up when I’m already going somewhere.
My sisters ask for favors, and I ask them for favors right back.
I still help because I love them. I just know how to say no now. Mostly. We’re working on it.
The coffee finishes brewing as Lucien comes out of the bedroom.
He slides his arms around my waist from behind and rests his chin on my head while I pour two cups.
He kisses between my ears before releasing me.
I hand him his coffee exactly the way he likes it, and Lucien takes a sip before making an obnoxiously pleased sound.
“Mm, thank you darlin’.”
I’m his kitty cat, his darlin’, his beautiful boy, his love, and at least six other increasingly silly pet names.
He’s my demon.
By the time we reach Wick’s, everyone else is already there. Lucien doesn’t even bother pretending he needs an invitation anymore. He pulls out the empty chair beside mine and sits while I squeeze between him and Beau.
Wren sets an apple tart in front of Lucien before he can order. “You’re predictable now.”
“I prefer consistent.” Lucien takes a bite while Wren heads back toward the counter.
Breakfast stretches longer than it probably should.
It usually does now. Nobody rushes away when the food is gone.
Gabe talks about his knitting circle, Beau tells us something ridiculous Poe did, and Lark complains about Pike stealing the blankets again.
Lucien fits into the table so naturally that sometimes I forget there was ever a time when he wasn’t sitting beside me.
Eventually, my phone buzzes with a text from Mama asking when we’re coming over. I tell her soon, then finish the last of my drink before standing. Lucien reaches for my hand automatically. That still makes me smile.
We say goodbye to everyone before stepping outside. The morning has warmed considerably, and I tilt my face toward the sun while Lucien finishes the last bite of his tart. His hand stays wrapped around mine as we walk away from the bakery.
The sun feels good. I’m happy. A little over six months ago, I was terrified that if I stopped moving, everyone would realize they didn’t need me anymore. Now I know being needed and being loved were never the same thing.
I’m still Mama’s son and Ferris’s big brother.
I’m still a dancer and bartender at Flutter and Fangs, though I’ve cut back my hours because having free time is fucking fantastic.
I’m still part of the loudest, nosiest friend group in Hex.
I’m also Sparkle. Just Sparkle. And I finally know what he wants.
I slide my arms around Lucien’s neck. His confusion disappears as I rise onto my toes and kiss him.
His hands settle against my waist, and his tail curls tighter around mine while I take my time.
People walk past us. Somewhere behind me, a car door slams. The bakery door opens and closes.
None of it matters. When I pull back, Lucien’s eyes are half closed and a smug little smile is spreading across his face.
I laugh and kiss the corner of his mouth. “I love you.”
There it is. That look. Six months of saying it, and Lucien still lights up every single fucking time.
“I love you too, darlin’.” His hand slides up my back before he kisses between my ears. “More than anything.”
My chest warms. Sixteen-year-old me would be absolutely losing his shit right now.
He made that ridiculous Guide because he wanted someone to love every part of him.
Someone who would make him laugh, take him on adventures, kiss him until the world disappeared, accept his family, accept his body, give him space when he needed it, and tell him exactly how much he was loved.
He thought finding the right person would be the hard part.
Turns out the hard part was learning I could have all of that without disappearing into someone else. I can love Lucien without giving him every piece of me. I can love my family without living my life for them. I can be alone without being lonely.
Right now, I have my apartment. My family. My friends. My demon. A job I love and whole days where I don’t have to do a damn thing if I don’t want to.
And apparently, by this afternoon, I’m going to have an unnecessarily enormous cat tree. Not bad for a kitty cat who thought nobody would want him if he stopped being useful.
Lucien brushes his thumb over my cheek. “Come on. Mama’s waiting.”
Lucien lifts his fingers to snap, but I catch his hand and lace our fingers together instead.
“We can walk.”
He looks toward the road, then back at me. “That is significantly slower.”
“I know.” I squeeze his hand.
“We could already be there.”
“I know.”
Lucien studies me for another second before understanding softens his expression. He lowers his hand and falls into step beside me. I’m not in a hurry to get anywhere. I already have everything I want.
The end.