We both went silent at that. Once we were heroes, we probably wouldn’t mock each other anymore. Our whole dynamic would be different soon.
Bryce gathered my hands in his. He turned and dipped his head until we looked at each other, nose to nose. “Are you scared?” he whispered.
“Course not.”
His face softened. “A wise… ass once told me that one day the sun will explode and consume the universe, and none of this will have mattered.”
The feeling of loss only grew. It will have mattered. Mattered to me. The mattering was the whole issue. He mattered so much, I’d give up Nothing and everything for him all at once.
Winding his fists in my hair, Bryce brought his mouth down on mine. It wasn’t like our other kisses, reckless and peppered with fits of uncontrollable laughter. It was heated and purposeful, overshadowed by unasked questions.What happens after this?It could have been an end or a beginning, and so we let it be neither. It justwas, he and I, blocking out the world.
At last, I pulled away. I held my hand up, fading orange energy pooling in my palm. Wisps of blue light hovered over Bryce’s skin as well. This man, this beautiful man who stuck by my side through everything, he should know how much I valued and admired him. He should know how much I cared. He should know that I was starting to wonder if, perhaps, I even…
I swallowed hard. “We should do it now, before the magic subsides.”
Bryce nodded. Together, we cupped our hands around the container, willing our magic inside. As the last glow faded from our hands and began to shine up from the potion, I felt like I’d given something up I shouldn’t have.
Bryce looked at me, and maybe, if we were different people, we would have said a few words, but we were us, so I said, “Bottoms up,” and we each threw back a drink of the mixture.
The pulpy herbs, slick raw egg, and buttermilk hit the back of my throat, and I almost gagged, but I managed to muscle it down.
I didn’t feel any different after the supersoldier serum. I didn’t feel like I suddenly knew how to save the world, nor did I miraculously know how to properly wield a broadsword.
I looked at Bryce, who was grimacing and reaching for a cupof water. I felt the same for him as before: craving his affection but scared what its cost would amount to.
Which was interesting. Because heroes shouldn’t have insecurities, should they? Heroes shouldn’tstillbe doubting someone who told her he liked her, even if shedidhit snooze on her alarm seven times every morning, knowing his bedroom was on the other side of the wall, and even if shewasbad with feelings.
“Do you…” I frowned. “Do you feel the same?”
“I feel like I might…” Bryce paused. Frowned. Tilted his head. “Be ill.”
Illwas an unusually tactful word for Bryce. He had to be messing with me, pretending he’d been turned into some kind of heroic gentleman. I opened my mouth to tell him to stop faking, but what came out was “Oh dear. Can I help you in any way?”
Bryce opened his mouth. Closed it.
I wanted to know what he was trying to say, to ask if his brain was also stuck in a new,politehellhole of a body. “Are you having a nice day?” was what came out of my mouth.
“Quite nice” popped out of his.
Small talk? We’d been reduced to pleasantries andsmall talk? I’d never been so sickened in my life. My mind spewed curse words. My mouth said, “What a lovely spring we’re having, isn’t it?”
“Quite. Nice.” He clasped his hands together serenely.
How wouldthishelp us get home? We couldn’t communicate now. My insides raged, but my body was infuriatingly calm as I walked over to the potion book and flipped through the pages. In addition to the hero potion, there were spells to make perfect peasants, blacksmiths, knights, bakers, and many more, but no antidotes for any of it.
“Is there no way to—” My jaw snapped shut, nearly biting my own tongue. I wrenched it back open. “We have to un—”SNAP.
I couldn’t say what I wanted:Can we undo it?I supposed asking if there was a way to go back to being a bad person wasn’t a heroic thing to do.
I read the hero potion description again:Will turn the foulest person’s actions pure.
Actions. Not thoughts. Actions. I’d thought the potion would make me better all the way to the inside so changing would’ve felt like a good thing instead of a sacrifice. But my same old subpar spirit was trapped inside a prison of goodness.
I snatched the book off the counter to heft it over my head and hurl it against the nearest wall, but my muscles hardened in my arms, forcing my movements down. I gently closed the book and slid it to the side.
A scream ravaged through me but rose no higher than my chest. Angry, hot tears burned behind my eyes but weren’t allowed free. I was trapped and frantic andfurious, and all I could do was stand there, my face relaxed, save for a slight tension between my brows—the smallest, most delicate of frowns.
It felt like wearing a mask again. Like it was six months ago, and I was trapped, losing myself and wondering why people only cared when my outsides didn’t match my insides.
