Page 54 of Honeythorn
“How did she take…did you tell her about what happened?” Raphael asked tentatively.
Milan sobered. “She took it well.”
“Don’t lie.”
“I’m not! Truly, Raphael. She took it well. I mean…don’t expect her to be warm towards you.”
Raphael snorted. “I’m glad you have a good friend in her.”
“Very. I would love it if both of you got along.”
“So would I. Though, knowing Katerina, I doubt that will happen any time soon. But, please, invite her here. You know you can have company whenever you want.”
Milan frowned. “Are you sure? I don’t want to impose.”
Raphael rested his hands, still holding his utensils, on the table. “I know that I have been remiss in showing you, but this is your home too. You cannot impose in your own home.”
Milan paused, letting that settle.Home.Would there really come a day when he would think of the North that way? “Thank you.”
Raphael nodded before they resumed eating.
A little lost in thought, wondering what it would take to truly see this land as his home, Milan asked, “Do you want a family?”
Raphael choked on what he had been chewing, needing a few gulps of water and some coughing to finally be able to speak. Milan looked on in amusement.
“I—yes,” he managed eventually. “I always imagined a big family, not having had one growing up. But, of course, I would never force you, if you didn’t want to.”
“I do. I want to, I mean. A big family, like mine.”
Raphael looked at him, cheeks pink. Milan could feel himself flush too, and concentrated on his food, a little giddy for reasons he wouldn’t analyse.
That night, when they slipped into bed to sleep, Milan could feel something charged between them. Nothing immediate, just…potential. Like a whisper or a small caress.
In the safety of the darkness, Milan felt brave enough to speak. “Do you still feel scared?”
There was a pause. “Sometimes,” Raphael’s voice said softly.
“Of me?”
Even more quietly, “Sometimes.”
“Can I…send you something, through the bond? Would that be all right?”
Another moment of silence. “Yes.”
Milan closed his eyes and concentrated. He thought about that feeling that Katerina had mentioned. Fondness. Or, maybe, a little bit more.
Gently, he pushed it through the bond. It was difficult to describe how the bond felt. A little like how one knows someone dear is standing next to you without looking, but inside. A strange awareness of their person, echoes of their emotions like heat from skin. Milan used that awareness to tell Raphael something—that he would never hurt him. That he cared about him. That he wouldn’t let anything bad happen to him.
“Oh,” Raphael gasped a small, small noise, but it hit Milan with force, how much wonder there was in it, as if Raphael had never felt anything like it.
As if he had never felt loved like that.
Raphael’s hand tightened around his. For a long moment, there was silence.
“Thank you,” Raphael whispered.
Milan squeezed his hand. They fell asleep close, facing each other.
