Chapter 29
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
“Fucking hell,” Esme exclaimed as we stepped into the Year-End gala.
Fucking hell, indeed. The party was opulent.
Extravagant. Ostentatious. And any other synonymous words you might find under lavish in the thesaurus.
The crossword clue for this event would be ‘Something characterised by excessive luxury or showy wealth’ because that’s exactly what this party was.
The first thing that a socially anxious person like me noticed was the sheer volume of people in attendance, of which there were many.
Theoretically speaking, I understood that one thousand was a large sum, but the concept and seeing it in practice were two entirely different things.
Crowds and crowds of people stretched endlessly before, me moving in waves of polished faces and expensive clothes.
We walked past a group of obnoxiously loud men who were eyeing up a group of women to their right–the only pristine thing about them was their suits.
The gala had only started an hour before, but they had already descended into a drunken stupor, yelling over one another and stumbling about, holding their drinks at odd angles that was no good for their suits or the fancy carpet beneath their feet.
The room was large, but it was difficult to tell with the sheer number of people in the facility.
The ceiling had been adorned with beautiful crystal-encrusted chandeliers crested by a ring of floating candles.
Although completely unnecessary, the lights illuminated the room, making it feel like stars in the night sky.
I could appreciate the effort that had gone into decorating this space, but I couldn't help but feel that it was all a little unnecessary. No one was sober enough to notice, and even if they had been, I wasn’t sure they'd care.
“I am going to get us some drinks,” Esme yelled over the crowd as she disappeared into the sea of finely dressed partygoers searching for clinking glasses. “Don’t move, I’ll be back in a minute.”
Thallor and I nodded in unison before slumping down in the chairs of an empty table to our right.
This area of the room was a little bit quieter and a little bit cooler, which suited me just fine.
I looked over at Thallor, who wasn't focusing on anything in particular, just letting his eyes roam around the room, taking in the sight before him as I did the same.
“I’ve been thinking about my last wish,” I said, breaking the silence as he shifted his attention back to me.
“Yeah?” he said tenderly, a soft smile making its way onto his face.
As much as I loved seeing him smile, I didn't miss the momentary crease in his brow.
I think we both knew what the last wish meant, yet neither of us was prepared to broach the subject of what it could mean.
Especially what it meant for us. As I was still in possession of the Malediction Codex, I, at least, felt safe in the prospect that no one else could summon Thallor.
And whilst I loved the idea of him staying, the idea of him being bound to that book, forever at the mercy of whoever held it and whoever bound him to it.
Well, that all bothered me more than I could put into words.
It had taken me almost an entire school year to make two wishes.
And whilst the prospect of not making the third, the prospect of having him stay tempted me, his happiness and his freedom meant more to me than anything else.
At the end of it all, I wanted him to choose to stay.
I wanted him to want me the way I wanted him.
“Sterling,” I could hear his voice cut through the crowd as he leaned in and placed a steadying hand on my leg. “Sterling.”
“Hmm?” I asked, not knowing how long I’d been absentmindedly staring off into space.
“You’d said you had been thinking about your last wish?” He cocked his head to the side. He was so handsome. So unbelievably handsome. So effortlessly handsome. Sometimes I struggled just to focus in his presence. It’s a wonder I even got through my degree.
I sat there for a moment longer, taking him in.
I thought about everything that had transpired between us.
I thought about everything I wanted but was still too scared to say.
I thought about everything that he taught me about love and myself, and whilst this year had been unbelievably painful, there was one constant pulling me out of all the bad.
I don't think Thallor was truly aware of his effect on me.
But he made me feel like I was worth something, that I was worthy enough to feel loved.
For everything that he'd seen, for all his magic and power, he looked at me like I was the thing that was special. Like I was the thing that was magic.
“I want to free you from the book.” I spoke the words with conviction, leaving no room for misunderstanding or misinterpretation.
And then I just watched him intently for his response.
For a beat, and then two, he just stared at me, jaws clenched and eyes unblinking.
Why aren’t you saying anything? God, why aren’t you saying anything?
The moment stretched into seconds, which stretched into minutes.
I watched as the gears turned in the back of his mind, but no words seemed to slip from his lips.
His expression was one of surprise and something else I couldn't quite make out.
“Oh my god…I’ve misread this whole…” Why did words always evade me?
I wanted to say stay. I wanted to say, don't leave.
I wanted to say I know this thing between us is complicated, but I promise to stay if you do.
Because you've turned my world on its head, you've given me a purpose I wasn't sure would ever exist for me.
You showed me what it feels like to love and be loved, and although those words are too terrifying to utter, I feel them.
I feel them so wholly and completely. The idea of you being anywhere but by my side terrifies me.
You have changed everything for me.
Instead of Claire and Bender, I'll think of us.
Instead of Johnny and Baby, I'll think of us.
Instead of Harry and Sally, I'll think of us.
“I want you to stay,” I blurted out at the same time Esme set two champing flutes down in front of us. Curse the universe and its cruel timing.
I looked up at her and forced out a smile, one that hopefully didn't show the anxiety that weaved its way around my entire body.
My heart throttled against my chest, and for a moment, I had to focus all of my energy on breathing.
I didn't bother to look at Thallor, but I could tell from my periphery that he was watching me intently, the weight of it almost suffocating.
Maybe his words had really just been words, and I'd misunderstood what was happening between us.
Clearly, this was a fleeting moment for him, something he did to pass the time.
In his silence, all the reasons he couldn't stay flooded to the forefront of my mind. He's not human. He doesn't belong here. And no matter how much I wanted to fall to my knees and beg him not to go, I wasn't sure I could. He stayed because he had to.
“Come on, down your drinks,” Esme said excitedly as a 70s disco tune enveloped the entire room. “I want to dance!”
“I can’t dance in these?!” I looked up at her incredulously before motioning to the ankle-breaking heels I was currently wearing.
“Quincey Sterling, get that peachy little ass on the dance floor before I drag you out there myself.” Esme laughed before looking over at Thallor. “You too, Brood Law.”
Thallor looked up at her and scowled.
“Don’t even pretend that you don’t love the broody, mysterious vibe you’ve got going on,” she added, before smirking down at him. He simply pinched the bridge of his nose, releasing an exasperated breath before standing up to follow us.
We made our way over to the light-up dance floor, where people were moving their bodies to the music, in a whole manner of movements, some understandable, and some not.
From tiny jumps and wiggling hips, to the rather perplexing gentleman who looked like he had just dislocated his knee, everyone seemed to be having a good time.
I typically would have protested going into a crowd of sweaty bodies and suffocating closeness, but I needed to get away from the table and the situation.
In the toss-up between dance floor claustrophobia and the incessant jostling of thoughts rattling around in my own head, it was a pretty easy choice.
Making my way over to the expanse of convulsing bodies, I grabbed a second flute of courage–or stupidity in liquid form–before heading directly onto the dance floor.
Several glasses of champagne later–and what may have been the most flawless playlist in recorded history–any trace of worry I walked in with had long since danced its way out of my body.
The absence of anxiety made space for laughter.
Stupid, rambunctious laughter, and maybe some questionable dance moves, too.
But I was far too drunk to feel embarrassed about them.
Esme disappeared with a few friends from her course, trailing off toward an after-party once the gala had started to wind down.
She followed fun, and fun followed her; they were like a match made in heaven.
And Thallor? Well, he had undergone a transformation of sorts.
Gone was his calm collected, or be it slightly brooding personality, and in its place something looser. The male who stood before was radiant.