CHAPTER 18
She started reading stories at some point that day.
She did her best to act it out, standing, leaping, jumping, even changing tones and voices and making faces.
And over the course of days, she was sword fighting pirates in the Caribbean, she was falling into the arms of princes turned into beasts, she was fighting off dragons, she was tragically in love, she was saving nations, and more.
She tried to pick stories where the humans were not so corrupted—for instance, she did not pick Hamlet or Macbeth though she loved them—and she tried not to pick ones where their fates were too awful—Oedipus or Pyramus and Thisbe for instance.
Maybe it was wrong to censor things for him, but she didn’t want him to think humans were too awful. Unfortunately, it knocked out quite a few of her favorite reads. She hadn’t realized how much she liked tragedy.
He started to spend even more time beside her.
She had duties to attend to so she couldn’t spend every moment with him—or so she thought.
But he lingered in the water when she worked on the exterior of the lighthouse or in the garden.
He followed around from below while she circled it.
He hovered nearby when she replaced a board in the dock.
He was further out when she was tending the garden, far enough that the cliffs no longer obstructed their view.
And in the evenings, when she went up to the tower, he waited until she lit the light, then would give her a wave before descending into the depths.
One morning, after seeing her fish, he started bringing fish. Then another day, it was mussels and another day, clams.
“You don’t have to do this,” she said, but he just smiled so she said, “Thank you.”
At some point, she gave up on the books—for she had run out of anything but tragedies or theory—and just started creating her own. That was even more fun, she realized, as if she was creating worlds for only the two of them to share.
It was magical. It was perfect. And though she had not touched him again since that day she held his cheek, she didn’t care.
Even if they stayed this way forever—as good friends—she was sure that would be enough for her.
Her heart might still hammer in her chest at the sight of him, but at the end of the day, what she wanted was him, however she might have him.
“Stay,” he said one evening as the sun lingered above the horizon.
“I can’t,” she murmured. “I have to light the light. That’s my job.”
His lips puckered as if he didn’t like the answer.
“Then…come back.” His ruby eyes looked straight at her, so intense it was like they could pin her to the spot.
“If you insist,” she said.
“Is that yes?” he asked.
“Oh, sorry. Yes. I can come back.” He looked so serious and she wasn’t sure why. “I’ll come back.”
He nodded. “Good. I want show you something.”
“To show me something,” she murmured gently. He was picking it up so quickly and he didn’t seem to mind the little corrections.
“Okay. I want to show you something. Is that okay?”
She nodded. “Is it okay when I correct you?” she asked. She didn’t really want to know—if the answer wasn’t yes and he felt annoyed by her, she was sure her heart would break—but perhaps it was better than him hating her. “I don’t mean to be mean.”
“I know. It helps. I like the help.”
“And I like you,” she said, the words coming out before she could stop them.
“And I like you more,” he said, pushing up a bit on the rock to brush up against her, his nose just grazing her upper arm.
He lingered like that for a moment, his skin against hers, and her heart thundered at the gentleness of the touch.
His face was so close to hers that she only had to bend down to meet it. So, so close.
“What if…what if I kiss you?” she asked, feeling her face instantaneously light up at the words.
She hadn’t read any stories with kisses to him and his brow puckered accordingly. “What’s that? Why you red?”
But the blush seemed to only be getting hotter and she leapt to her feet to put distance between them. “You know what? Doesn’t matter,” she said quickly. “Look at that sun. I really have to go.”
Thank the Lord the sun really was the closest it had been to the horizon that she had ever seen without the light already lit. It let her have a reason to bolt like her life depended on it.
Hadn’t she just thought how she would be so fine as friends? What in God’s name was she thinking?