Page 50 of In the Light of the Moon

Once the credits began to roll, we turned off the television—it was one that mimicked a painting when turned off, and Sylvie marveled at it for at least ten minutes when I’d shown her the deception—and began to get ready for bed.

The pleasant pattering of Sylvie and I walking about the house was a rhythm I didn’t realize I would welcome or love as much as I did. We worked with a familiar ease while she helped me put mugs and the popcorn bowl in the dishwasher, fold the blanket we’d sat under while sitting on the couch, and turn off all the lights inside and outside. It was a lengthy and pleasant routine as I put things back just so, making sure my appliances and kitchen utensils were lined up and in their proper places, that the blanket was placed in its particular perch on the couch. But Sylvie followed my direction without question, just with sweet enthusiasm.

I watched curiously while she spread creams and serums on her face while I brushed my teeth, the large bathroom feeling less cavernous with both of us standing before the mirror. It had been nearly a decade since I’d spent the night with someone, and, though I had been excitedly anticipating tonight, I’d worried that I wouldn’t enjoy sharing my space with someone. But it was Sylvie, and her sweet, calming scents, and her acceptance of when I didn’t have words to say. She would fill thesilence or just let it lie, and the only one I’d ever felt peace like this was with my father when I was a child.

I reached a hand to organize the glass bottles and hair cream jars she’d brought, only to pull back at the last second. Instead of chastising or ignoring my urge, she encouraged me to put them wherever, and I breathed a sigh of relief when I restored order to the counter. I organized her things by type and size, and the knot in my chest loosened.

I couldn’t contain my smile as I watched her braid her hair and secure a silk scarf over it for the night. Though my father’s mother died when I was quite young, the action reminded me of her.

We settled in bed with more than a few yawns erupted between us. It was another first for us, but our bodies found and fit together seamlessly. And when her lips snagged mine with an urgency that was only emphasized by her scent, I found myself staring up at Sylvie as she rode my dick with languid waves of her hips. The oversizedNightmare on Elm Streett-shirt was falling off her shoulder so that I had a perfect view of my mark while she threw her head back as she came.

I was in love with her. It was so clear with the way I yearned for her, with how my mind, so set in its ways, opened willingly and eagerly to let her in. Now that her scent was mixed with mine in this house, I wanted it to stay. To go to bed with her every night, to watch all the violent films she wanted, to cook her every meal.

Sylvie’s body constricted around me, and I felt my release race down my spine. Her needy little sounds were almost cruel in how my instincts delighted in them. But it also made me want to lose control so badly. To pin her down and rut into her until she screamed. To truly lose ourselves and make her body lock onto mine.

But I couldn’t. It was difficult to maintain the dual awareness, but I managed. After she came, I flipped Sylvie on her back and knelt over her. I hiked up her shirt and came over her belly instead of inside her.

The look on her face was still sweet, though, and having her in my arms as we eventually fell asleep made it so, so worth it.

When we woke in the morning, I inhaled her sleep-warm scent like it was a drug. To watch the sunrise reflect in her deep brown eyes was another spell she’d put on me. Because I was now addicted to this. To her passing caresses and kisses while we dressed for our respective classes that morning and while I made us breakfast.

Though I knew it bothered her, Sylvie sat with me on the back porch again, munching on her avocado toast, while I smoked my first cigarette of the day.

I packed us travel mugs of coffee, and I offered to drive us both to campus since we were going to the same place, anyway. And if she saw my attempt at her returning to my home later today, perhaps for her to spend the night again, she didn’t comment on it. She just agreed and gave me another generous grin.

We’d been driving in relative silence, with my melodic commute playlist soft between us, when she turned to me and spoke. “Um, Orion?”

My attention zeroed in on the shift in her ease. It may have been because we were nearing the college, but she’d repeatedly spoken of how much she enjoyed her classes. My hands squeezed on the steering wheel, and I tried my best to concentrate on her scent, her words, and the road before us at the same time.

“Yeah?”

She took a bracing breath which just made my anxiety spike even more. If anything, Sylvie often shortened her breaths when she was upset. “Will you… get in trouble for being with me?”

We were stopped at a light just a few streets from the Department of English, and I took the opportunity to turn to her. My brow knit low over my eyes, but I forced my hands to relax on the wheel. “What do you mean?” The thought of anyone taking her away from me was making rage flare underneath my skin.

“Well,” she ran a hand over her hair to smooth it, but I knew she did this repeatedly when she was nervous, “since you’re a professor, and I’m a student in your department. Even with me not being a student ofyours.”

The light before us turned green, and I pointedly turned back to face forward. My shoulders relaxed. “I doubt it, but I was going to disclose our relationship to the head of the department once they get back in town next week.”

“Oh,” she deflated.

“As long as you’re all right with that? With people knowing.”

And then I felt the soft press of her lips on my cheek. When she sat back in her seat, Sylvie smelled back to her normal state, “Of course, baby. I just didn’t want to jeopardize your position or anything.”

I scoffed, “If they ended up having a problem with it, I wouldn’t care.”

I felt her wide eyes on me while I pulled into a faculty spot behind the building. “Are you sure? I couldn’t ask you to possibly?—”

“You are more important to me than all of this,” I waved one hand at the building in front of us while turning my car off with the other. I pivoted in my seat to see her eyes shimmering, a blush creeping up on her cheeks, and a soft smile playing at her lips.

“Okay, baby. Thank you.”

I leaned over the console and pressed my lips to hers quickly but firmly. Everything I told her was the truth. Before we’d gone on our first date, I’d looked into the department and college policies on such matters. And if it somehow backfired on me… oh well.

My studies and my career were important to me, of course. After my disastrous attempt at having the pack life, they’d been my only companion. But now, as I looked to Sylvie—‘girlfriend’ felt too flippant of a word for what I felt for her—I knew that I would give up everything if it meant she was safe and happy.

Based on what I felt in my soul, and on all the accounts I’d read, that was love.

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