Chapter Twenty-One
“We’ll reach the portal tomorrow.”
The sun had long since set, and we were standing near a set of ruins the forest surrounded, overlooking the mountain range before us.
The place we stood had once been home to the first palace of Wylionis, before the days of the realm guards, back when a king and queen ruled side by side. But that was a tale for another day.
An old balcony railing was still in place, and I leaned against it, looking out to admire the view, while pulling my cloak against me.
The moon was mostly hidden behind clouds, but there were patches where the sky was clear.
My skin only showed the stars shining through intermittently, so I was mostly safe. Mostly.
Dewdrop had curled up safely on a bed of soft leaves as soon as we arrived, and was already sighing her way to blissful rest.
“I wonder what it will be like returning home,” Aleixo pondered.
I didn’t want to speak; I didn’t want my voice to betray what I felt. Words I’d been longing to say were stuck, and I didn’t know how long I’d been wanting to say them.
“I’m sure you will settle in well enough.” The comforting words felt empty coming from me. I didn’t mean them, I truly didn’t.
“I don’t think I’ll be able to settle in again. It will feel…dull. Frustratingly dull.”
A shooting star lit up the sky above us and he turned to me, excitedly. “Quick! Make a wish!”
I couldn’t resist the laughter that escaped me. “I can’t make a wish, Aleixo. It would be like wishing upon kin.”
He was suddenly serious as he looked down at me. The familiar crinkle was on his face, but this time, there didn’t appear to be any confusion in his eyes. No, there was another expression entirely.
“Say that again,” he spoke softly.
“It would be like wishing upon kin?”
“No.” He took a step closer to me. “Say my name again.” His voice was low and pleading, and it wrapped me up in its comforting warmth.
“Aleixo.” I didn’t hesitate, sounding out his name like it was a treat to be savoured, and he closed his eyes to listen.
“There was a time when you spoke it differently,” he started. “I’m not sure if it’s in my head, or if things have truly changed for you…but I want to hear you say it. Over and over again.”
“Aleixo,” I whispered.
His eyes opened and I looked up at him. Suddenly, it didn’t matter what was happening or where we were. His face, which once struck me as frustratingly obnoxious, no longer gave me the same feeling as I realized what was approaching us all too quickly.
The goodbye.
I’d read so many stories of how people fell in love: a lightning bolt from the sky, a look across a crowded room, a laugh heard in the distance.
All those moments felt so real, so tangible; they felt obvious and delirious and magical.
Everything I’d read had someone pinpointing the exact second they had fallen in love.
I couldn’t do that.
There was no sudden realization when it came to Aleixo.
There was no conversation that made me see him differently, no touch that had ignited a spark in me.
All I saw was a culmination of happenings that led to this moment, of me looking up at him, through a wistful love as dazzling as the night sky around us.
Whatever I felt had crept up on me unawares, yet I didn’t understand how that could happen when this feeling was so all-encompassing. It felt as though I wouldn’t be able to continue my life without him.
But I had to.
Because the whole point of this adventure was to return him to his realm.
The world that made no sense, the world with only humans, the world in which the only one who could love him more than any breathing thing was shockingly absent.
In his world, there was not a future where I existed, and I had to reconcile myself to that.
It would be better for both of us if I ignored this overwhelming feeling. If I swept it away like a current pushing leaves down a river. It would be better if I never acknowledged it again.
Unfortunately, my heart was pounding louder with every minute that passed.
Every part of my body was calling out to him, screaming for him.
I couldn’t let him go; I couldn’t say goodbye tomorrow without selfishly taking one thing for myself.
Was it worth acting upon this feeling? When I had already pushed him away so much?
It pressed all around me as I fought within myself.
But the fight didn’t last long. For in all my incessant contemplating, his hands were suddenly on my arms, and he was looking down at me so intensely, my breath caught in my throat. Was I even breathing at all?
“Calista…”
“Oh, don’t speak,” I rushed in. “Every time you open that mouth of yours—”
My words cut off as he pressed his lips against mine and wrapped his arms around me. I leaned into him, eager to finally share everything I felt.
I knew my skin was flushed as my hands pulled him closer. My heart leaped with excitement at what was happening, and I didn’t want this moment to end.
But suddenly he pulled away, his voice filled with apologies.
“I’m so sorry, I don’t know what came over me.
I was just curious, like a dwarf, as you would say.
I'm not sure if you were humouring me.” He dropped his arms from their place around my body.
“I know I'm probably not what you’re looking for, and maybe this is all wrong for you. I'm leaving soon…”
Before I could second-guess myself, I grabbed his shirt and drew him in. “You talk too much,” I whispered before I kissed him, this time leaving no room for confusion.
He held me once more, and I felt like I was lifted off the earth itself. There was no greater bliss than what I felt in this moment. Everything felt right, everything felt perfect. My heart soared, my mind calmed, and nothing could ruin this moment.
I heard him gasp as I opened my eyes, pulling back to follow his gaze. Down, down, down. “Are we…flying?”
Laughter filled the air, and I realized it was mine. Apparently, my mind was in the clouds. “It’s the star shards in my veins. When my body warms, the heat can move me like a shooting star. It’s not so much flying as it is just light levitation. A light soar. Or rather, perhaps a dark soar.”
He looked at me, the crinkle showing as it always seemed to do when I spoke. “A…dark soar?”
“Well, it isn’t really a light soar, as it’s currently nighttime.”
He groaned. “I’ll never keep up with your words.”
“Likely not.” I slowly brought us down as my jubilee subsided.
He would never keep up with my words because he would never remain here.
“We should go.” I knew the starry-eyed infatuation had left my eyes, and I tried to hide what I was feeling.
I wasn’t prone to emotional outbursts, and I wasn’t going to start now.
A finger lifted my chin to meet his gaze. “Not yet,” he whispered with a smile before bringing his lips to mine once more.