Page 8 of Heart, Haunt, Havoc
“Brave,” Bishop mimicked, chuckling under their breath. “That’s an interesting word.”
“Is it?”
“It is,” they said. “Do you have a plan?”
“I wish I did, but no, not yet. I need a little more time. I hope being here isn’t a distraction—”
“It’s not. You’re welcome to stay as long as you need to.”
“Good,” Colin said. Something hot and new twinged in his chest. It’s this house, he thought.Clinging to every sip of heat.
A beat of silence surfaced, broken by forks on plates and teeth tugging at food. Bishop stared at the table. Silvered sunlight beamed through the cloud cover and passed through the slider, glowing on their bronze skin. They shifted their eyes, settling their gaze on Colin’s face.
“How long ago did you transition?” They asked, then wrinkled their nose, opening and closing their mouth. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… Fuck, I mean, I did, but—”
“Technically, twelve years ago,” Colin said. He shrugged, running his bottom lip along the rim of his glass. He swallowed pulpy grapefruit juice. “But I started medically transitioning when I was eighteen. You?”
“Three years. Still new.”
“You’re pretty young to be a homeowner. Did you get this place by yourself or…?”
Bishop bit into an orange slice. “No, I didn’t. But it’s mine now. That’s what matters.”
“Did anyone else ever live here? Not to be invasive, but if you’d like me to do my job then I need to know.”
“Yeah, briefly,” Bishop said. They crunched a grape, drank their juice, and breathed slowly, deeply. “But like I said, it’s mine now.”
Colin hummed. He knew better than to press. Clocked Bishop’s shielded eyes, their tense shoulders, and ate the rest of his food.
“Thank you for breakfast.”
“Don’t worry about it. I like to cook.” Bishop attempted to take Colin’s plate, but he stopped them.
“Let me,” he said, and took both of their plates to the sink, soaping the imitation porcelain with a sponge under lukewarm water. “Any plans for today?”
“Installing the new shower doors.”
“Then your bedroom is done?”
“Yeah, finally. I might run to the nursery for some plants. Give this place a little life.”
“Want company? I’d like to leave the house for a while. Test its tolerance for loneliness.”
Bishop nodded curtly. “Sure, yeah. You can help me pick out some greenery,” they said, striding through the foyer. “We’ll leave around noon.”
“Okay,” Colin said. He leaned against the counter, watching the glass slider catch Bishop’s transparent reflection. They walked through the hall, paused at the staircase, and Colin saw the ghostly whisper of hands on their waist, slipping across them, holding onto them, causing their lips to pop open and their eyes to close.
What did you two do to each other?Colin thought, watching Bishop’s splotchy reflection sway, blur, bend. He turned away once footsteps hit the stairs.What did you two mean to each other?
Chapter four
MoonStrikeNurserylivedon the outskirts of Gideon, Colorado, a mere fifteen minutes away from the house on Staghorn Way. Colin followed Bishop through the cluttered metaphysical shop crowded with tarot cards, jewelry, gardening tools and crystal specimens, and walked into the attached greenhouse. Flat brown pots lined the dewy walls, and shelves stacked with sprouts and propagation vials filled the room. Houseplants sat atop long tables next to flowerbed-starters and assorted herbs. He touched an eye-shaped leaf the size of his hand and framed an orchid bulb between his knuckles.
“This place is quitewitchy,” Colin said, smiling around the last word.
Bishop turned a terracotta pot from side to side, studying a prickly cactus. “Best prices in town,” they said, setting the pot down, picking up another. “Nothin’ wrong with a little magic, right?”
“Depends on the magic.”
