Page 21 of To Fall for a Dragon

Going to the museum after hours was uncharacteristic of Hakko, but he had to show his own truth to Poe. Everything had to be out in the open for them to start fresh.

The hum of spirits filled the air as he located a stack of papers waiting on a filing cabinet for the case to be repaired. Hakko searched for the letter that called to him. He was sure it had been written by Poe.

With flat hands, Hakko transported the letter to his apartment, going to the den where he and Poe had been. No one was in the room, and Hakko’s heart fell. He had hoped.

“I’m in here,” Poe called grumpily. Hakko swallowed and detoured to the kitchen where Poe sat at the island with two glasses of red wine already poured. He arched an eyebrow at Poe, curious.

“I thought… we needed the fortification,” Poe muttered. His cheeks were flushed with embarrassment. He held a leather-bound book in his hands, caressing the binding in a nervous manner.

“Good call.” Hakko set his prize between them and waited. He’d read the letter a multitude of times, and the words were burned into his psyche. The writer was lost in a sea of emotion, dead to the weight of the world.

Poe gave the paper a side-eyed glance, but he didn’t move.

“This is yours?” Hakko flicked a glance to the letter and back to Poe, dying to ask questions. “It was moving.”

“It was long ago. My memory isn’t the best.” Poe gave the aged page a considering look. Grief was palpable in the air as he settled away from the table.

Hakko scowled and forced himself to not scream. The silly man was going to deny writing the letter. “Poe, it’s old, and nothing in it can hurt you. It’s a beautiful letter, and the recipient was blessed by what you said in it.”

“Sometimes, things should be forgotten.” Poe stood and took his book with him. He drifted to the backdoor and went out into the gloom. Hakko stopped himself from following. He had to trust that Poe would return. That this was him taking a moment. So, Hakko waited.

Minutes passed.

Hakko shot glances at the door, wishing he could see through it. Had he pushed too hard? Were the letters too painful for Poe? He was someone who had locked his past in a vault, and to be confronted like this had to ache. Unable to keep still, Hakko busied himself with a small tray of cookies to go along with the wine Poe had chosen. It wouldn’t hurt to fortify himself with some sweets.

Still no Poe.

The door creaked open, and Poe was there. His hair was frosty and wind tossed. He seemed to be at peace. A light in the darkness.

Poe slid the book toward Hakko and sat at his spot. He started to speak and stopped before trying again. “This was what I came home for. It’s the companion to the one in your museum. There are some letters in here from him. He hated what I'd done to him. Said I was… said I was gross. I thought I meant something to him. So, I wrote letters. Some went to him, and I guess others went elsewhere.”

Hakko slid his letter toward Poe. “Is this letter from you? Do you know who you wrote it for?”

Poe sighed and took a sip of his wine. “You’re basing too much romance on a single moment. The real me is in the book. The real me is the guy who has base fantasies, who ruined a good man’s life.”

Hakko tugged the letter and the book toward him protectively. He bared his teeth at Poe, angry at the negativity Poe had. “I don’t like it when you talk like that about yourself. You’re a good person.”

“Not everyone was as open-minded as you, Hakko.” Poe paused before smiling tiredly. “You are a chivalrous knight, but you think too highly of me.”

Frustrated by Poe’s determination and his own words being challenged all the time, Hakko leaned across the slab of granite and kissed Poe hard. He kissed him because, in this instance, Hakko was right. He kissed Poe because Poe deserved something decent. He was going to show Poe that he was owed kindness. “You don’t think highly enough. Listen to me. I like you. Yes, you’re a bit annoying, and you won’t let me take care of you, but I still like you. I will like you when you reveal your hidden self. You can’t scare me. I’m too stubborn.”

Poe scowled and crossed his arms. “You’re a pain in the ass, and I… once you read what’s in there, you’ll change your mind.”

Sighing, Hakko pulled the dusty and dirty book toward him. He gingerly undid the fragile ribbon, wincing as bits of leather flaked off. He refused to ponder what he had just released into his kitchen. It was a handsome book with tooled markings. Poe had spent a lot of cash on this beautiful piece of art. He must have loved journaling enough to use up that much of his earnings. Must and mildew overwhelmed his sensitive nose as Hakko opened the cover. He raised his head and met Poe’s nervous eyes.

“It smells funky.”

“It’s been in the mausoleum since I left. It probably became damp and rotted as time passed,” Poe said offhandedly. Hakko cringed and pushed the book away.

“I suggest we go to the museum’s document room to open this. It’s well-ventilated, and it’s clean. We won’t get sick.” Hakko grinned. “Please? I don’t want to do this in my kitchen. I create masterpieces here.”

Poe pursed his lips and stared at the passage leading to the museum. A dark emotion filled his eyes before he nodded. “If I need to leave, I will.”

Hakko lurched back, wary and insulted. “I would never keep you anywhere against your will, Poe. My invitation stands true. You have free rein of the place. I cannot and I will not trap you in a place you do not wish to be.”

“I don’t know why you’re so determined to do this.” He stood and roughly grabbed the book and tried to do the same to the letter, but Hakko snagged it in time. His actions spoke of bravado, and Hakko’s protective instincts grew teeth. No one was going to hurt Poe, not even Hakko.

“Well, come on. Take me to your special room.”

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