Page 161 of Midnights
Her expression darkens and her brows pull together. Her lips part, but the words never make it past her throat.
“Hey.” I squeeze her hand, bringing her back to the present. “You still with me? We’re almost there.”
She blinks, her eyes snapping back to mine. Whatever held her in place fades, but not entirely. “What doesalmost there,mean?”
I don't answer because we're here. The moment she sees it, her entire face lights up. “The swing!” She gasps, practically dragging me toward it.
She lets go of my hand and slips onto the swing without hesitation, her dress pooling around her like dark ink against the moonlit grass.
I grab the ropes, giving the swing a gentle push.
Her head tips back and the breeze tugs her hair loose. For a second she forgets to fight the world. That unguarded, reckless smile spreads across her lips and I want to steal it before anyone else sees it.
I watch the way her eyes flutter shut, and the way she breathes like she’s letting something heavy go. This is the mostrealI’ve seen her. No mask. No sharp edges. Just her.
A chuckle slips out before I can stop it. Her head turns, and she narrows her eyes. “Don’t you dare laugh at me,” she warns, but there’s no bite in it.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Her lips twitch, fighting back a grin, and the shift between us is instant. If I let my mind wander too far into what this is turning into, I’ll start thinking about all the things I should tell her. The things I can’t tell her.
Not yet. Not here.
So I let her have this moment. And maybe, just for a second, I let myself have it too.
The swing slows and the world settles around us. She gets up and walks over to the tree trunk. Her fingers brush over the carving of the twoK’s,tracing the letters slowly, as if she’s committing them to memory.
A sharp prickle runs down my spine, coiling tight in my chest. It’s gone in an instant, but the feeling it leaves behind lingers.
I clear my throat, stepping toward her, but when she turns to face me, I stop.
There’s something different in her eyes. A depth that wasn’t there before, curls behind her eyes. It’s still her, but it feels like she’s looking straight through me.
The space between us is nothing but a heartbeat. I feel the rise and fall of her chest, and for a second, I don’t fucking move.
Her lips part, and her voice is barely more than a whisper. “A storm is coming.”
The certainty in her tone roots me to the ground, sending another cold chill down my spine.
“Do you want to go back inside?”
She looks out across the lake and something unreadable flashes across her expression.
“No,” she says after a beat. “But I know we probably should. We’ve been out here for a while.”
“We can always come back out later,” I tell her, even as something in my chest tightens.
She studies me, searching my eyes. “I would like that very much.”
Her eyes look wide and bright under the moonlight. Long, dark lashes brush against her cheeks as she blinks up at me parting her lips.
“Let’s get you back to the castle, then.” I murmur, my voice coming out rougher than I meant it.
“Okay,” she whispers.
Her eyes look down to my mouth and every ounce of patience I have is obliterated.
My hand moves on its own before I can stop it, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face. My thumb grazes the smooth curve of her cheek, and she doesn’t pull away like I think she will, instead, she leans in biting her lip.
