Page 35 of Veiled Yearning

Something heavy slams into my chest, forcing the air from my lungs. My nose prickles. My eyes burn.

What he’s done…

He brought the library outside.

In front of the small brick fireplace, there’s a plaid picnic blanket laid out, scattered with matching throw pillows. A bottle of wine and glasses sit beside it, along with a small, white cardboard box that says—

“Gavril!” I spin toward him. “Salt water taffy?”

“Yeah.” His cheeks go ruddy. “You said how much you liked it, and I found this place in Maine that will do overnight delivery…”

Oh. My heart flutters.

And then there’s the ceiling. A swathe of stars overhead, along with the familiar constellations—Perseus and Cassiopeia and Hercules. Lit only by the golden glow of the fire, the room is dark enough to see the stars clearly.

“Gavril.” There’s a little quiver to my voice. “You did this?”

“I did.” A pause. “Is it okay? I just thought… I know you love being outside, and you can’t do that here, and I feel bad about it. And I thought this might make you—”

“It’s perfect.” I fling my arms around him, feeling happier than I have in ages. “I love it.”

“Ah.” His hand smooths over my hair, stroking down my back, and there’s the lightest touch of something to the top of my head—his lips? Could it be? “I’m so glad you like it.”

Once we’re on the picnic blanket, sitting close enough that our legs are touching, Gavril says quietly, “I asked Cait to help with ideas. I told her I wanted to bring the outdoors to you, and she mentioned this machine that projects stars on the ceiling. So I found it online, and ordered all this stuff…”

Oh. How did I never know Gavril could be like this? The light of the fire casts a warm glow on his face, his eyes are flecked with sparks of gold, a tentative smile curves his lips…and in this moment, I feel my guards falling even further.

“Thank you,” I breathe. “It’s wonderful.”

His fingers reach for mine, and we stare into the fire, our hands entwined. “I know this has been hard for you,” he finally says. “Being away from home. Stuck inside. I just—” There’s that uncertain expression again, so foreign on Gavril’s face. “People think I don’t care. That I don’t have feelings.”

“I don’t think that.”

“You did.” It’s a quiet acceptance. “Most people do. And I let them. After everything, it’s easier. If they knew why—”

“Oh, Gav.” The nickname just slips out, but it feels right. “I understand.” Raising my hand to his face, I brush my thumb across his bristly cheek. “But I know you do. Feel. More than most, I think.”

His features tighten with surprise before he carefully smooths them out. “I don’t know about that. But… I care about you. I want you to be happy.”

This feeling. So unexpected. But so perfect. “I want you to be happy, too.”

After a long pause, he admits, “I’m not sure I know how to be happy. Satisfied, pleased, yes. And happy for my friends—Frederick and Cait, Alex and Jules, David and Raine. But actually happy for myself? I’m not sure how long it’s been.”

A chord sounds inside me, knowing exactly what he’s saying. “I know. I understand.”

Gavril shifts, angling to face me. He brushes my hair over my shoulder, his hand lingering on my back for a second. “What would make you happy? Do you know?”

Yes. But those things have been pushed so far back, it’s painful to pull them out again. For Gavril, though… “When I was human, I wanted children. A family. I know part of that isn’t an option anymore, but—”

Dipping my head, I let the rest spill out in a rush. “I think if I had a home, where I didn’t have to hide, and someone I could rely on… someone who doesn’t judge me when I get weird about cleaning or arranging things… and pets. I’d like to have a dog. Or two. And some cats. Then… I think I’d be happy.”

“Chiara…” His eyes shift to a molten silver, whorls of darker gray swirling within. “I wish…”

Gavril leans closer, his face less than a foot from mine. His jaw goes tight.

Our gazes are locked together.

There’s a current between us, static electricity buzzing.

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