Page 18 of Siren in Love
But he’s not a siren.Words and song mean nothing to him because humans don’t live in rom-coms where the extras are background singers and the emotions live in the lyrics.
“How about I show you who I am?I said I’d make you breakfast, so I’ll make you breakfast.And then I’ll take you on a second date.”
“For confession?”
Mike nodded.“Yeah.”
Corvin was quiet for a moment, giving all the doubts and fears Mike suddenly found himself with room to dig their thorns into him.But then he simply nodded and said, “Okay.”
“Okay then.”
Mike turned off the lamp by the bed, and in the dark room, finding just the perfect configuration of arms and legs entwined was easy as the tides.Corvin rested his head on Mike’s shoulder as if it were the perfect spot, like a siren’s favorite rock to sit on while they sang.
Mike was about to drift off himself when Corvin suddenly jerked up.“Oh shoot!”
“What?!Does your head hurt?”Mike was struggling to find the light switch.
“No, it’s not that.What are you doing?”
“Light switch.”
In the dark, Corvin managed to find Mike’s wrists and held them tightly.“Don’t need light.I just realized I forgot to make a joke about your carrot.The moment was so perfect when I was blowing you.”
In the darkness, there was no way Corvin could see Mike’s slack-jawed expression, but even so, he started giggling like a little kid.
“Those meds are good, huh?”
“Not as good as your carrot, Pineapple Mike.Also, hush.”
“Didn’t like when I told you that?”
“No, it was fine.”Corvin lay back down and Mike followed, if only because he wanted to offer his shoulder again.“Also, I like your carrot.”
“Fuck, please don’t call it that.”
“I’ll take that under advisement.”Sleep was thick in Corvin’s voice, and he fell quiet after that.
Mike listened for a while longer.Corvin’s breathing in harmony with his own in the darkness.It was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard.
10
Corvin
Four months later.
Mikestoodatthenow familiar kitchen table in Corvin’s old apartment.It had grown echoey over the course of the day as it had never been before.The box in front of him was one of the last.Corvin had stressed that he didn’t want it squished.When a librarian cataloged something, they did it properly, and on occasion, it turned out to be treasure.
Mike looked over his shoulder at the open door.He couldn’t hear Corvin in the stairwell yet, so he was probably still downstairs loading the rented moving van.Taking a break before going up again maybe.Mike turned his attention back to the box and lifted the lid.
“So these are your precious memories, huh?”
Over the course of the last four months, Mike had learned that Corvin was more of a romantic than he’d ever admit to being, but still, what his lover considered precious surprised Mike.Sure, there was the strip of silly, cute photos they’d taken in one of the booths at the Old Church—one of a pair, this one with Corvin sitting on Mike’s lap and looking adorable in the best of ways.It had been the night when he’d gotten his stitches out, when Doctor Morales had given them an approving nod, saying something about how she was glad to see the two of them were still a couple.
However, there was also the napkin Mike had folded for breakfast after their first night spent entangled in this very apartment.Corvin’s taste in tableware was, to say the least, eclectic flea-market chic, and his napkins were superhero themed.Mike had folded one of those into a flower to match the plates and cups.
“So this is why you wouldn’t use it, huh?”Mike chuckled as he carefully lifted the flower-shaped napkin out of the box.“Didn’t expect that.”
The menu with the handwritten cocktail voucher was also in the box, as well as the ticket stubs from an exhibit about witches that had run in the New Elvenswood Museum of Folklore and Local History.
