Page 25 of Falling in Love with A Tiny Bat

So, yeah, I probably shouldn’t do that.

Gathering myself, I free a calm breath. “Xios, for future reference, I am notcuteoradorableorendearingin any way.”

Gingerly, he angles himself toward me, still covering his burning face with a hand. “Is the way others perceive you a decision you get to audit?”

“Yes.”

His brows dip, doubtful, but he gains a hair’s breadth of my respect when he asks, “What adjectives do you find make adequate compliments? Assuming I agree with them, I’m more than willing to adjust my vocabulary.”

I raise a brow and evict my first quesadilla from the pan before prepping the ingredients for another one. “I’m sorry. Are you suggesting I only deserveadequacy?”

“That was not at all my implication. Forgive me. My lung capacity is shutting down.”

“And now you’re making excuses?” I tut, adjust my posture, andyeetthe baby bunny.

He fumbles a second, confused out of his tiny, flinging-bunny brain. “It was…more a reason for my lack of decorum.”

“Why can’t you take accountability for your actions?”

What I’m doing clicks in his flung-bunny brain. Something shifts in his eyes, and he drops his hand to his side. “Are yougaslighting me?”

“Are you seriously going to stand there andaccuseme of gaslighting you? To distract me from the fact you don’t know how to compliment a woman? That’s embarrassing—” I add cheese and hot sauce to my tortilla before tucking the contents in with another on top. “—for you.”

“What is this remarkable sensation?” His fingers flex, and he looks at his hands. “I can’t tell if it’s better or worse than being overwhelmed by your beauty.”

I snort. “The fae have a lot of traits that are generally considered neurodivergent in humans.”

“Yes, I’m aware of the terming humans use to classify when fae tendencies appear in human bodies.”

“People with ADHD often create drama and start fights as a means to boost adrenaline or stimulate their frontal lobes. They’re dopamine deficient, constantly thrown between underwhelmed and overwhelmed. Despite seeming overstimulated, you’ve proposed a game that implies you’re understimulated—or stupid. I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt on that front because I have further points.”

Approaching the center island, Xios watches me, intent. “How unusual. I have never considered that I might be stimuli deficient before… Everything always seems to be too much, not too little.”

“Meda’s told me that you’re always off doing different jobs in Faerie.”

“How else am I supposed to learn about the world?”

“By reading a book.” I flip my second quesadilla and turn on him, pointing my spatula. “You’re simultaneously thrill-seeking and thrill-avoiding. Aren’t you?”

His lips part. Silence stretches. At last, he says, “I…do tend to act impulsively then suffer with many regrets.”

“Samesies.”

A breathy laugh leaves him. “May I express how wonderful it is to know you, Zahra? However we fit together, I am grateful to be in the presence of someone whose soul understands mine.”

My heart trips on that lovely little line, so I return my attention to my cooking. I seem to have crisped one side of my quesadilla too much. Nuts.

Oh well.

I guess this one is Alexios’s.

Taking the best for myself isn’t veryChristianof me. But it is funnier. Right?

Right?

No cosmic whispers inform me that I am wrong.

But they also don’t exactly inform me that I amright.

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