Page 20 of Magic in My Bones

I shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, my fingers fiddling with the frayed edge of my sleeve. A sudden wave of self-consciousness washed over me, and I found myself second-guessing every aspect of my appearance. Did I pass well enough? Was there something about me that had given me away? The old, familiar fear of being clocked as trans reared its ugly head, twisting my insides into knots.

“Is everything all right?” he asked softly.

I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry. “I just...” I trailed off, unsure how to put my fears into words. “I was wondering why you invited me. To the club, I mean.” My voice came out small and uncertain, and I hated myself for it.

Dorian’s brow furrowed, a flicker of concern dancing in his green eyes. “I invited you because I thought you might enjoy it,” he said.

“Yes, but whythisclub?”

Dorian’s expression softened, a hint of sadness flickering in his emerald eyes. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he fixed me with an earnest gaze. “Ren, I... I hope I didn't overstep. I saw the changes in your student file, the updates to your name and gender marker. And I just thought...” He trailed off, a faint flush coloring his cheeks. “Well, I suppose I made certain assumptions, which, in retrospect, was a rather asinine thing to do, wasn’t it?” He sighed, running a hand through his chestnut hair. “I’m so sorry, Ren. It wasn’tmy intention to make you uncomfortable. I never should’ve assumed—”

I held up a hand, cutting off Professor Crowe's apology. “No, it's...it's okay,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. “You were right. I am transgender.” The words hung in the air between us, a truth I'd spoken aloud so rarely it still felt foreign on my tongue. “But that's not all I am.”

Professor Crowe nodded, his expression open and understanding. “Of course not,” he said softly. “I didn't mean to imply otherwise.”

I took a deep breath, gathering my thoughts. The crackling of the dying fire filled the silence, the embers casting a warm glow over the room. “Sometimes, it feels like that’s all anyone ever sees when they look at me. And what’s worse is that sometimes, when I look at myself, that’s allIsee.”

The wood of his chair creaked as he sat forward. “Do you want to know what I see when I look at you, Ren Wickens? I see a brilliant young necromancer with immense potential. I see someone with incredible tenacity. Someone who's faced more challenges in his young life than most people face in a lifetime, and yet still has the courage to pursue his dreams.”

He reached out, tipping my chin up with his fingers, and my heart nearly jumped out of my chest. His gaze softened, sincere. “I see a stunning and handsome young man worthy of love. Worthy of joy.” He paused, letting the weight of his words settle in. “Chase that joy, Ren, with all that you are. And don’t you dare ever let anyone tell you that you don’t deserve it.”

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes. At that moment, I wanted nothing more than to believe him. To see myself through his eyes, if only for a moment.

I swallowed hard, my voice barely above a whisper. “You really mean that?”

His lips tugged up in a warm smile. “Every word.”

The air between us crackled with an unspoken tension, a magnetic pull that drew me closer to him. His magic felt different here, away from the formality of the classroom. It was warmer, more personal. It reminded me of that night in the necropolis, when he'd found me practicing with the spirits. There was something about the way magic moved between us, like we were speaking a language only we understood. Even now, I could feel my own magic reaching for his unconsciously, like a plant turning toward sunlight.

I noticed things I tried so hard to ignore during class: the way his sweater sleeve was pushed up just enough to reveal a tattoo of Celtic knotwork around his wrist, the hint of silver threading through his hair at the temples, the way his eyes seemed to hold fragments of every shade of green I'd ever seen.

For a moment, I allowed myself to imagine what it would be like to close the distance between us. To feel the press of his lips against mine, to lose myself in his embrace. But even as the thought formed, I pushed it away, a sharp pang of guilt twisting in my gut.

He was my professor. My mentor. And I was just a student, young and naïve and hopelessly out of my depth.

I pulled back, the moment shattering like a delicate glass orb dropped onto unforgiving flagstones. The spell was broken, reality rushing back in to fill the void left behind. Dorian blinked, as if waking from a dream, and leaned away, putting a respectable distance between us once more.

I swallowed hard, my heart still racing in my chest. Every book I'd ever read about magic talked about resonance, that moment when two magical signatures recognized each other, like instruments finding perfect harmony. I'd always thought it was just a pretty metaphor until now. Because what else could explain this feeling? This sense that something in me recognizedsomething in him, like finding a door you didn't know you'd been looking for until it appeared?

But doors could be dangerous too. The most powerful magic often came disguised as the thing we wanted most. And right now, what I wanted was to believe that someone like Dorian could see past everything I wasn't yet, straight through to everything I could be.

The ghost of his touch lingered on my skin, a phantom warmth that sent shivers down my spine. I'd never been kissed before, never even come close to the kind of intimacy that had hung in the air between us just moments ago. The thought of it was both thrilling and terrifying, a dizzying rush of emotion that left me feeling unmoored.

Professor Crowe cleared his throat, his voice rough as he spoke. “It's getting late,” he said, glancing towards the darkened windows. “You should probably head back to your dorm. Wouldn't want you to miss curfew.”

I nodded, not trusting my voice. I gathered my things, my hands shaking slightly as I slung my backpack over my shoulder. Dorian walked me to the door and held it open for me.

As we stepped out into the cool night air, he turned to me, his expression soft. “Thank you for coming tonight, Ren. I…” He paused, seeming to think better of what he was about to say. Instead, he offered another warm smile. “Get some rest, Ren. Don’t forget, you deserve every bit of joy that comes your way. And I’ll see you in class.”

I nodded, suddenly feeling a little steadier, like the whole weight of everything wasn’t on my shoulders anymore. As I turned and started walking away, I heard his voice one last time, almost too quiet to hear. “Take care of yourself, Ren.”

I didn’t turn around this time, but I felt the words sink into me as I made my way into the night. The world felt a little differentnow, a little softer somehow, as if the darkness held a bit more light than it had before.

8

Unfinished Business

Dorian

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