Chapter 37 Esag #2
He nodded, admiring her positive attitude. Tula was a fighter. She'd always been one, even as a girl.
"Can I get you something to drink before we start?" he asked. "Water? Tea? I think I might have some orange juice left over."
"Maybe later." Tula's eyes darted around the room, taking in every little detail. "I want to see your workshop first."
Right. The workshop. Where all the figurines of her were waiting for her to critique.
He led her down the hallway to his bedroom, acutely aware of how intimate it felt to have her in this space. His bed was visible through the doorway—neatly made up but still obviously a bed.
"The workshop is actually in the walk-in closet," he explained, opening the door.
"It's not much, but for now, it has all I need.
" He chuckled. "Though I have to admit that I was considering switching between the bedroom and the closet, making my workshop in the bedroom, and moving my bed into the closet. "
"That's funny." Tula stepped inside, and Esag watched her face as she took in the shelves lining the walls, the workbench in the center, and the tools hanging in organized rows.
And the figurines.
So many figurines.
She moved slowly along the shelves, her fingers trailing near but not quite touching the carved wooden figures. Her expression was unreadable, and Esag realized that he was holding his breath, waiting for her response.
Then she stopped at the shelf where he'd grouped together all the versions of her.
The sheen in her eyes caught the light, and Esag realized she was tearing up.
She picked up one of the figurines, the one where she was laughing with her head thrown back, and examined it closely.
"It's astonishing," she whispered. "How you managed to capture my personality with so little detail and before even seeing me in person. I mean as an adult, not the young girl you remembered."
"But I did see you," Esag said. "Through the visions. While I was carving Wonder's figurine, your face kept appearing in the wood instead. I tried to fight it, but—" He shrugged helplessly. "The wood wanted to be you."
"The wood wanted to be me." Tula's lips quirked. "That's either very sweet or slightly insane."
"Maybe both."
She set down the laughing figure and picked up another. This one was more pensive. She had her hand at her throat, and her eyes were focused on some point in the distance. Esag had seen her make that gesture when deep in thought.
"It's so strange," she murmured.
"What is?"
Tula turned to face him, still holding the figurine. "That I feel like you know me better than even my captivity sisters, who have been with me for thousands of years. Not even Areana, who was the closest to me, saw me this clearly." Her blue eyes searched his face. "How is that possible?"
Esag's throat went dry. He could deflect, make a joke, keep things light and safe, or he could tell her what he really thought.
"Because it was fated," he said quietly.
Tula went very still. "Fated."
"The dreams. The visions. The way I was carving your likeness, no matter who else I was trying to depict." Esag took a step closer, his heart pounding so hard he was sure she could hear it. "And the way I feel when I look at you. Like everything in my life has been leading up to this moment."
"Esag—"
"I know I have no right," he continued, the words spilling out before he could stop them.
"I know I hurt your sister and you in the process.
I know I'm the last person you should think of as a potential for anything.
But I can't pretend that I don't feel this.
" He put his hand over his heart. "Whatever this is. "
Tula returned the figurine to its spot on the shelf and turned to him. "I feel it too."
The admission hit him in the chest like a battering ram. "You do?"
"Yes." She took a step toward him, closing the distance between them. "And it scares me because it makes no sense, and I like for things to make sense, and I'm afraid that I'm not thinking straight because pregnancy hormones are making me stupid and emotional."
"You might be emotional, but never stupid." Esag reached out, his hand hovering near her face, not quite touching. "And you are incredibly brave and loyal. You were offered freedom years ago and chose to remain in captivity to stand by Areana's side. Not many people would have done that."
She let out a breath. "I can't stop thinking about you." She looked up at him. "How is that for being brave? I can't stop wondering about that mystical connection we shared and what it means. I can't stop wanting—"
She broke off, her eyes dropping to his lips.
Esag was suddenly hyperaware of everything—the warmth of her body so close to his, the subtle scent of her shampoo, the way her pulse fluttered at her throat.
Slowly, he brought his hand up to brush his knuckles against her cheek.
She didn't pull away. Instead, she leaned into his touch, her eyes closing briefly.
It was all the permission he needed.
Esag dipped his head, bringing his lips to within a fraction of an inch of hers. Close enough that he could feel her breath, warm against his mouth. Close enough that the slightest movement would close the gap between them. But he waited, giving her the chance to back away if she didn't want this.
Tula opened her eyes, looked at him with an expression so open and vulnerable it was devastating, and closed the distance herself. Her lips were soft against his. Tentative at first, questioning, as if she wasn't entirely sure this was really happening.
Esag kept the kiss gentle, his hand cradling her face like she was something precious and breakable, because she was. Because despite her strength and her survival and her five thousand years of endurance, right now, in this moment, she was trusting him with something fragile.
She made a small sound in the back of her throat and lifted her arms, wrapping them around his neck and holding him to her.
The kiss deepened. Became less tentative, more certain. Her fingers tangled in his hair, and Esag's free arm came around her waist, pulling her closer.
She fit against him perfectly, her pregnant belly pressed between them, a reminder of all the complications that came with it. But Esag didn't care. Couldn't care. Not when she was kissing him like he was the air she needed to save herself from drowning.
When they finally broke apart, he rested his forehead against hers, lost for words.
What was he supposed to say?
"That was—" he started.
"A mistake," Tula finished, but she didn't pull away. "Probably a huge mistake."
He shook his head. "Never."
"We should stop."
"We shouldn't."
Neither of them moved.
Tula laughed shakily. "This is insane. You know that, right? Up until a few days ago, I hated you with a passion, and I'm pregnant with another man's child."
"None of that matters."
He expected her to argue.
"So, why does this feel so right?" she whispered instead.
Esag pulled back just enough to look at her, to see the confusion and hope and fear warring in her expression.
"Because it is right," he said. "I don't know how or why or what it means for the future. But this is real."
Tula searched his face for a long moment. Then she nodded.
"Okay," she whispered.
"Okay?"
"Okay, let's see where this goes." She managed a tremulous smile. "With the full awareness that we might be heading into disaster."
"A beautiful disaster," he qualified.
They still had so much to figure out, but right now Tula was here, and she'd kissed him, and she was willing to see where this thing between them might lead.