Page 55 of Sweet Silver Bells
Hunter watched as Olivia kissed their petals, and he couldn’t tell if he was imagining it, but he thought he could hear them coo back to her, babies cheering in delight as the rolls under their chins were tickled. She was quirky, and he liked it; he liked it so much.
“What are these?” Olivia skipped into the kitchen, a stack of thick gilded cards in her hands, vivid with silver and mystical etchings.
“Those were one of Sarah’s newer hobbies—tarot cards. They are supposed to tell you about the future, the past. I’ve tried to learn, too, but didn’t get very far.”
“What is that then?” Olivia followed as Hunter threw the hot pan down on the stovetop.
“Tortilla chips with melted cheese,” Hunter said. “This breakfast has gotten me through many hard days.”
“Is today going to be a hard day?”
Hunter turned, her face inches away from his, and realised he was already so comfortable with her. He was getting more used to her forwardness, her assertiveness, her possession of him, of sorts. It was a very different type of belonging than how he held onto her, a silent worship that existed from more of a distance. Hunter preferred to watch, to observe, to feel safe.
Safe was the opposite of Olivia.
“What do your cards tell you about me, Hunter?” Olivia asked, holding out the deck to him. He took it and looked down at the drawing of a woman with her head up towards the sky.
He didn’t know what it meant. He hadn’t a clue.
“Your magic, your power, whatever you call it, did your parents have it too?” he asked.
Olivia shook her head no. “I watched my mother grow sad and cold as she tried her best to help me cover it up. No one knew where it came from.”
“Are there others like you?” Hunter sloppily shuffled the cards in his hand.
“I don’t know. I’ve been alone my entire life in this.”
“I’m sorry,” Hunter said. She must have been so lonely.
“What would you ask the cards if I knew how to read them better?”
Olivia paused, considering. “I would ask them if you are the right one. If you are who I am looking for.”
Hunter held his breath. She was so forward that he didn’t have enough time to explore his own heart before he could decide. His consciousness filled with light and dark, pulling him like a rope in a tug of war. The dark often won; Olivia often won over his voice of reason.
“What if I am?”
“Then you better be sure, Hunter. Because I will never let go once you tell me not to.”
Did he want that?
He couldn’t be sure what was real, what was haze, what was spell. If he told her no, would this all just disappear? Could he even go back to what his pathetic life was before he met a maiden in a forest, before he offered to be a shining white knight, before the universe laughed at his intentions?
Hunter set the cards on a pile of papers and junk on the back countertop as Olivia walked up to the pan and sniffed, taking a chip and watching as the cheese pulled, long and stringy. She frowned, put it back and turned to walk away, back to singing to the poinsettia, back to exploring every drawer that he had in this house.
He grabbed her hand, stopping her, and she snapped into him, her body so close, her warmth radiating onto him.
“Today will be a lot. I don’t blame you if you change your mind or’d rather not go. I can stay here with you, too. Honestly, I would be perfectly content to watch a movie with you, maybe talk a little.”
“A movie?” Olivia frowned.
“Moving pictures. They tell a story, remember? On the TV?”
Olivia crossed her arms over her chest. “You were supposed to get rid of it. The tree, it’s too uncomfortable; it's crying out for help. I thought you, Hunter, would understand and take action.”
Hunter rolled his eyes.
“Silly me for wanting to spend some time with you, for thinking I could have you all to myself.”
