Rowan
Never has my body had such an overreaction. The doctor’s words barely sink in, but Juniper is with me, listening like the dutiful sister she’s always been. My eyes burn, my hands and neck itch, and my nose is dripping.
Allergies, apparently.
Plenty of rest, use this ointment, Epi-Pen just in case, and you’ll be fine. After four hours of monitoring, they let me go.
Whatever medication they gave me has me groggy, dragging my feet out of Juniper’s car.
Seth—perfect, beautiful Seth—is already inside as I enter with Juniper sheep-dogging me inside. Grocery bags hang over his wrists, and he looks at me with eyes that can only be described as puppy-dog adjacent.
Adorable. Even through the fog, I can feel my lips tipping up into a smile—perhaps the biggest I’ve ever worn.
“Was it the flowers?” he asks.
The joy slides right off my face.
The last thing I want is to make him feel bad about a gift—a thoughtful, beautiful gift. He picked such unique flowers, and they looked absolutely perfect in my room. Now, they’re gone, on the kitchen table instead—where they can still be enjoyed, but I won’t be in such close contact with them.
Those flowers are in the trash now, I imagine. Poor flowers.
“It’s just allergies.” I sniffle. “I’ve never been allergic before, but… must have been one of the new flowers. Something I haven’t encountered.”
“Or it’s the hex.”
The doctor’s words ring in my ear: Flower allergies rarely cause anaphylactic shock. I’ve never seen anything like this.
Seth can’t know just how bad it was. I’m fine now. Why should I worry him?
“Nope. You’re not speaking about hexes today,” Juniper says, rounding on Seth, her eyes narrowing on the bags. “It’s right to bed for Rowan. The doctor pumped her full of antihistamines, and you’re lucky she’s not passing out at your feet. What did you bring her?”
“I was going to make sinigang,” he says. “It’ll take about an hour—”
“Sounds lovely.” Even in this state, I can’t help but smile affectionately. He may or may not be the indirect reason for my allergy attack, for just how badly I long to itch my poor neck, but he’s so thoughtful. And good in the kitchen. And… gods, I’m a little loopy, aren’t I? “I love you.”
Seth’s eyes widen, and he exchanges a look with Juniper, who presses her lips together.
“Bed,” Juniper says, guiding me up the stairs. “Now. Seth will start the soup while you get your head on straight.”
Maybe I should be embarrassed, but a giddy sensation follows me with each step I take. I love him. I giggle as Juniper leads me to my room, and I burrow myself under the covers, still in my daytime clothes.
“That man is still hexed,” Juniper hisses, nearly jolting me out of the haze threatening to take me. “You’d better be careful.”
Be careful of what? Poison?
I gasp. “The soup—”
“I’ll taste it first.” She sighs and pats my forehead.
“But I love him.” I can barely connect the dots on everything that’s happening.
Seth is still hexed. Juniper is worried that he might accidentally poison me. And he didn’t say he loves me back, but I don’t care. I love him. That’s enough.
Juniper’s expression softens. “Don’t worry. We’ll find a way around this.”
My nap would probably be restless if not for the allergy medication.
I don’t realize I’ve knocked out until someone touches my shoulder, rousing me back to the land of the living.
I open an eye, and there’s Seth, holding a bowl of sinigang.
Of course, he’s wearing his perfect, angelic smile.
This is the one face I don’t mind waking up to.
He brings me so much life; I don’t even need my usual cups—yes, plural—of coffee.
“Sit up for me?”
I do as he says, propping myself up on the pillows. I’m already feeling better, though I’m not sure how much time has passed. My body is heavy, fatigue threatens to take me, but I can breathe easily. My eyes no longer itch. And my neck, the rash… that feels better, too.
Juniper must have used our rash elixir while I was sleeping. When I touch the side of my neck, the hives are gone.
I hold the bowl of soup on my lap and take a tender bite. The savory and sour mingle together, melting in my mouth along with the tender meat. A soft moan passes through my lips. “I can’t believe how well you can cook. I’ve never dated a man who can cook before.”
Some of the non-men I’ve dated cooked for me, yes, but not men. Even the most intellectual, mature men seem to be useless when it comes to common sense and staying alive. Cooking goes squarely within that list.
Seth says, “My mom wouldn’t let me get away without learning, and this is my favorite soup when I’m feeling sick. I hope it can help you, too.”
And it does. As I slurp it all down, it helps soothe the heaviness in my bones. He picks up the elixir from my bedside and silently smooths it on my neck and the back of my hands. “I can’t stay all night, but I’m a call away. Just next door. You know that.”
Why can’t he? I have to stop myself from asking. Seth has other responsibilities, and though there’s a somber look in his eye, I won’t let myself worry that he’s pulling away. That’s not what this is.
“I know,” I whisper.
“And I left the soup here. Eat more.”
“If my sisters don’t eat it all.”
“Yeah. If.”
He chuckles and picks up a brush from my nightstand, running it through my hair while I sit upright, eating. He splits my hair in two and braids the strands with unsurprising skill—he used to help with his sister’s hair. I already know that.
“Thanks,” I say.
“Anything for you.”
There’s something broken in his smile. He knows what I know—what Juniper already said. He’s still hexed, and I don’t want to put it into words. But I should.
I slump back into bed, watching him quietly.
“We still have to break the hex, don’t we?” I ask, though I’m dreading the answer.
He shakes his head. “You said that was on me. I should have done more—should have taken care of it before—”
“It’s not your fault.”
“But it is. All of this is my fault.” His jaw tightens. “Juniper told me how bad it was. That you couldn’t breathe.”
“I was fine as soon as they used the Epi-Pen.”
“Still. Not good.”
He’s blaming himself, and the fault lies with the person who hexed him, but I’m too exhausted to argue. Exhausted, happy, and frustrated—how can I feel so many things at once? Feelings are usually easy for me. I organize. I compartmentalize. But I can’t do those things anymore.
“It seems like… sex is fine, but whenever you do something traditionally romantic, that’s when things go wrong.” I clear my scratchy throat. “What if you don’t do those things anymore? No dates. No flowers.”
I didn’t think it was possible, but his smile breaks again—another tiny shard in my heart. “But I like those things. A lot. I mean, I didn’t really care about them before, but I like them with you.”
His passion for romance makes my chest clench. If only I could be on the receiving end of those things without something terrible happening.
“I know.”
“It’s probably hard to believe, but I’ve always wanted someone to do these things for.” He shakes his head. “I know I haven’t been the best boyfriend, but I want to be now. And with you… it’s so easy.”
“Seth.” I hold the side of his face. “I’m not breaking up with you.”
He closes his eyes tightly. “I didn’t think you were, but now that you say that—”
“Shh…” I chuckle. “We’re going to break this hex. Together. We’ll just put a pause on the dates and flowers for now. Deal?”
He’s quiet for several moments, shaking his head, but eventually he says, “Deal.”
Even through the fog of exhaustion, I can see the shadows of the hex clearly around him. Stronger than ever, pulling at his hair, wrapping around his neck. It’s not fading, it’s getting stronger, which means the witch may be actively hexing him.
Another thing I keep to myself.
It’s midnight when Laurel creeps into my bedroom. She leans in the door and watches me, her arms crossed. “Can’t sleep?”
“Napped too long.” I set down my Kindle. “This should be a good opportunity to work on my knitting, but my hands are tired. I could barely hold up a paper book, so…” I wave the device in the air. “This will have to do.”
“As long as you’re resting.” She sits at the foot of my bed, so much like when we were younger. Crisscross, hands on her knees. “You really fucking scared me, you know? A flower allergy? I mean, really…”
“Why are you saying that like it’s my fault?”
“I know. It’s not.” She bites the inside of her lip. “I was happy for you and Seth, you know. I’ve never been the sister who’s like… don’t date my friends, blah blah blah.”
Was. She was happy for us, and perhaps she realizes that Seth and I are struggling now. Is there anything to be happy about? I want to hope there is, but I can’t get his sad smile out of my wretched head.
“But…?” I press the button on my Kindle to darken the screen.
“But I’m worried.” She plays with the ends of her long, green hair. “The hex seems to be getting worse. It’s threatening lives now. You could have died, Ro—”
I roll my eyes. “I could still breathe. Mostly. It was just a little throat tightness.”
“Still.”
If Laurel, the most adventurous of us, is worried… perhaps I should be more worried than I am. When have I ever been the type to put love above rationality?
“Seth and I have decided to step back from the romance for now,” I say. “We won’t so much as hold hands again until we confirm that it’s broken—with a spell this time. We’ll have Ozan check again.”
His magic seems more trustworthy than mine these days.
Her shoulders slump, and she lets out a long breath. “Good. That’s good.”
“Yes.” I nod tightly. “I suppose it is.”
It doesn’t feel good, not at all. Perhaps the medicine is still making me loopy, because I would take it all—another hospital visit, being drenched in the sprinklers on the coldest day in winter—for another kiss from Seth.