Page 52 of Prince of Flowers
“See? As handsome as ever.”
“Oh, shut up.” I chuckled, amused by his ego, but also relieved.
A bead of wax dripped from the tip of the candle and onto his chest. I gasped. He hissed, baring clenched teeth.
“You did that on purpose. You do like to hurt me, don’t you?”
“It was an accident! I think. And maybe. Only a little.”
“I can’t hurt you, but you can hurt me,” he growled. “That hardly seems fair.”
“We should probably stop trying to hurt each other,” I said, struggling to avoid looking at the shape growing underneath his towel.
“Agreed.” He grinned, his teeth flashing in the candlelight. “I’m far more interested in pleasure, anyway. You know yourself. Remember what I did to you at the pool? What we did to each other?”
Porcelain clattered. I started away from the bed, candle in hand as I whirled toward the noise.
“Oh,” I said. “Hello.”
“Don’t mind me.” The poor imp wiped at his forehead with a polka-dotted handkerchief. He probably wasn’t expecting to see a bit of light kink on his rounds. “I was just bringing your dishes and then — okay, bye.”
“Thank you,” I said, wanting nothing more than to vanish. The look on the imp’s face told me he was thinking the exact same thing.
“Yes,” Sylvain said, happy to include himself in the conversation, to emphasize that he was still half-naked in my bed. “Thank you very much, friend.”
The imp disappeared in a puff of smoke. The menu on the table made noise again. This time the imp sounded like he was speaking through tears of joy.
“My kiddo is getting so much ass, you guys. I’m so, so proud of him.”
The kitchen erupted into cheers. Pots and pans rattled. I sprinted toward the table, picked up the menu, and set it on fire. The sound warbled, then cut out as it burned to ashes. I blew the glamor-glow candle out.
“Well,” I said, composing myself, gesturing at the table. “I suppose we should have some dinner.”
“I’m not very hungry just now,” Sylvain said, his grin transformed into a smirk. “At least not for food.”
My ears burned. I gulped.
Sylvain waggled his eyebrows, placed his hands behind his head. “Your imp friends seem to think that you have recently acquired a significant quantity of ass. And here I thought you were far more interested in my — ”
“Stop it. Whatever it is you’re doing right now, just stop.”
He sat up, hands planted on the mattress. “Stop what? I thought we were being playful.”
I waved a hand at him, at the room, at nothing in particular. “I’m so confused, Sylvain. You’re hot and you’re cold. You say all these things, but I can never tell what’s what. I need to start over. We started out at each other’s throats, and that’s not how it should have happened. Let’s learn to be friends.” I thrust my hand out, knowing I must have looked and sounded absolutely unhinged. “Hi. I’m Locke.”
“Maybe I don’t want to be friends,” Sylvain muttered. “Maybe I want more.”
I wrenched at my hair. “You can’t tell me things like that unless you mean them. Summoner. Eidolon. This kind of thing doesn’t happen.”
“And why can’t it?” Sylvain rose from the bed, scowling. “Show me in your books. Where in your human history does it say that this is forbidden? Why are you so afraid of this, of me?”
“Because I’m terrified you’ll disappear,” I shouted. I never meant to shout. I panted, catching my breath. Was I sweating, too? “I’m scared you’ll just go away, like everything else. Everyone else. After the battle’s done, eidolons go home, Sylvain. The doves go home. Evander’s butterflies go home. And soon you’ll go home, too, and I can’t fall for you knowing that’s going to fucking happen.”
My outburst had sucked all the anger out of the room. I never meant to sound so pitiful, so pathetic. But it was the truth, wasn’t it? For once, I was telling him the truth.
Sylvain spoke in a gentler voice. “Why would you think that?”
I shook my head. “Trust issues. You know, I think I hate my father. Or I must. I don’t know why he left, or even how, but even before that all he ever did was judge me, criticize me. I’m not becoming a summoner to follow in his footsteps. This is for me, now. And my mother, I miss her, but — gods, listen to me. I’m just rambling now.”
