Page 49 of Starlit Bargains

Eliar kept his distance, walking ahead just enough to make it clear that the closeness of last night was gone. His back was straight, his steps measured, every line of his body projecting control and detachment.

Kai hated that it hurt. Hated that he cared this much, that he'd allowed himself to believe, even briefly, that this time might be different. That he might be worth staying for.

The silence stretched between them, growing heavier with each passing minute, each unspoken word. Kai's magic stirred restlessly beneath his skin, responding to his tumultuous emotions. Small golden sparks occasionally danced between his fingers, and twice he had to stop himself from accidentally setting a bush on fire.

After nearly an hour of this suffocating quiet, something in Kai finally snapped.

“You kissed me back,” he said, voice sharp, cutting through the silence like a blade.

Eliar halted mid-step, shoulders tensing. But he didn't turn.

Kai exhaled, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “You didn't just kiss me, Eliar. You held me. Like you wanted to. Like you—” His voice faltered, but he pushed through. “Don't tell me it was nothing.”

For a long moment, Eliar remained motionless, a statue carved from moonlight and shadow. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, controlled, but with an undercurrent of something that might have been pain.

“I'm telling you it can't be anything.”

“That's not the same thing,” Kai argued, taking a step closer. “Can't be isn't the same as wasn't. One's about the future, the other's about what already happened.”

“The distinction isn't relevant.”

“The hell it isn't!” Frustration boiled over, and Kai moved quickly, circling around to face Eliar directly. “It's the only thing that matters. What happened between us was real. I felt it. You felt it. Our magic felt it, for fuck's sake.”

Eliar's eyes—those impossible, star-filled eyes—finally met his, and the depth of conflict in them nearly took Kai's breath away. “What I feel doesn't change what is possible. What is safe.”

“Why?” Kai demanded, stepping closer, eyes burning. “Because you're a fallen Guardian? Because you think I'm too fragile to handle whatever it is you're running from?”

“Because I know what happens to those who get too close to me,” Eliar replied, his voice suddenly harsh. “I've lived centuries, Kai. Do you think you're the first person I've...” He trailed off, unable or unwilling to finish the thought.

“The first person you've what?” Kai pressed. “Cared about? Desired? Been tempted to let in?”

“All of it,” Eliar admitted, the confession seeming to cost him. “And I've watched them all wither and die, or worse. Because of what I am. Because of what my presence in their lives attracted.”

Kai absorbed this, understanding dawning. “The corruption. The shadows. They don't just come for you, do they? They come for anyone you're connected to.”

“Yes.” A single word, heavy with centuries of loss.

“And you think that's reason enough to push me away? To pretend last night didn't happen?”

Eliar finally turned to face him fully, and there was something tired and ancient and pained in his gaze. “You don't know what loving me would cost you.”

The word hung between them—“loving”—neither of them quite ready to acknowledge its implication.

“Maybe I'd like the damn choice,” Kai snapped.

Eliar flinched. Not outwardly, not obviously—but Kai saw it. The way his fingers twitched. The way his eyes flickered. The way he wanted, just as much as Kai did.

“It's not a choice I'm willing to let you make,” Eliar said finally, his voice soft but implacable. “Not when I know where it leads.”

Something cold settled in Kai's stomach. “So that's it? You decide for both of us? Because you know better, because you've lived longer, because you've seen more?”

“Because I can't bear to watch it happen again,” Eliar corrected, and for a moment, his mask slipped entirely, revealing the raw pain beneath. “Not with you.”

The simple admission, so at odds with his earlier dismissal, caught Kai off guard. There was honesty in it, vulnerability that Eliar rarely allowed himself to show. And something else, something that made Kai's heart twist painfully in his chest—a specificity to “not with you” that suggested Kai was different, somehow. Special.

“That should be my risk to take,” Kai said, gentler now. “My choice.”

“Your choice affects more than just you,” Eliar countered. “The prophecy?—”

---