Page 25 of A Touch Charmed

“Hell yeah. This is the good shit. No one makes music like Britney.”

Finn’s taste in music had been so different from mine when we first met. He liked anything in the Top 40, and I only listened to sad emo bands no one had ever heard of. But the more time I spent with him, the more his taste began to rub off on me. Probably because it made me think of us when we’d been happy.

“Here’s the thing about pop,” he said. “People think it’s garbage or too simple. But sadness, loneliness, and fear are the easy emotions to share. Misery loves company. It’s a hell of a lot harder to make people feel good. How is that simplistic garbage?”

“You know I wouldn’t dare disparage pop in front of you. I got enough lectures in college.”

After I finished eating, I propped my feet up on the chair across from me and balanced my sketch pad on my knees. The view gave me a lot of inspiration. I looked over at Finn and the boyish look on his face as he tapped his fingers against his leg to the beat.

“What are you going to draw?” He peered over the table, and I shielded my paper from his prying eyes. “Is it me? Can I be doing something cool like riding a dinosaur?”

I quickly sketched off a stick figure riding a crudely drawn blob that could’ve been a dinosaur, then ripped off the paper and handed it to him.

He held the drawing next to his face. “The likeness is uncanny. I think you’ve really captured my essence in this piece.”

“I call itMan and his Beast. The blurred lines and indistinct figures are meant to symbolize the eternal struggle between human consciousness and instinctive nature. Who is really the man and who is the beast?”

He chef-kissed his fingers. “Poetic.”

I caught his gaze mid-laugh. The sun streaming behind him, his dark blue eyes, the easy grin that curved his mouth with just a hint of mischief. In all my life, I’d never come across a man as beautiful as Finn Wilder. Not just the way he looked, buthim. He radiated with light from the inside, and it made everything around him just a little bit brighter.

“Can I draw you?” Heat rose to my cheeks. “For real, I mean.”

His playful expression turned serious. “You don’t have to ask me that.”

“Okay.” I swallowed. “Don’t look. I can’t concentrate when your eyes are on me.”

He turned his head, a smile I couldn’t read playing on his lips. I put my head down and began drawing. A different kind of magic flowed through my fingers when I had a pencil in my hand. There were a lot of areas in my life where I lacked confidence, but this wasn’t one of them. I created art like I’d been born for it.

Finn struck a few poses for me as I quietly lined and shaded his features. Not the silly version of Finn who liked to make me laugh, or the fun Finn who everyone adored. But the real Finn. The one with shadows at his back and light in his eyes. The one who had come up from nothing and fought for everything he had. The sad parts he tried to hide and the magnetic parts he tried to amplify. Under the lead point of my pencil, the core of who he was came alive.

When I finished, I hugged it to my chest. Part of me wanted to keep this one to myself. I’d never been good at concealing my thoughts or emotions from him, and that went double for anything I put on paper. But in the end, what did it matter if he saw how I felt about him? It’s not like I’d been doing a stellar job of hiding it in the first place.

I turned the portrait around and bit my lip as he took in every detail. He remained still, but when he glanced at me, a hive of emotion burned in his eyes. “How?”

“How, what?” My throat went dry as his gaze devoured me.

“How are you still able to draw me like this?”

“I’ve always been able to see you.”

A full-body tremble went through him. He stood and came around the table, his moves sleek and smooth, like a cat hunting on familiar territory. Apprehension had me pressing my back into the wrought iron chair, but when he took my hands and brought me to my feet, a weightless feeling flowed through me. As if I could float off the ground.

With one arm snug against my waist and the other hand cupping the back of my head, he pulled me against his chest. He kissed the top of my head. While waves crashed against the cliffs far below us, we stood at the edge of the world as we held on to each other.

And I didn’t lose control of my magic.

Sleep had not come easy. I spent half the night tossing and turning as I hugged a pillow tight to my chest, squeezing out what little comfort it offered.

After Finn and I had that moment on the cliff, I thought he might kiss me. I wanted him to. My magic wasn’t a factor in those soft feelings that drifted through me, but he didn’t make a move. He just rubbed my arms and cracked a joke about how warm it had gotten all of a sudden. A deflection to hide whatever genuine emotion he must’ve been experiencing too.

He could change moods faster than he could run.

I didn’t press it though. We had to give each other some space emotionally since we couldn’t get it physically. I gave him an indulgent smile as he reverted to the easy version of Finn who didn’t like to take anything too seriously.

Even though we had sworn off practicing for most of the night, we did end up doing a little. Only because Finn needed to know the limits of his powers too. And by practicing, I meant I stood there while he charged and tested how long he could maintain his speed without touching me.

Five minutes of holding my hand bought him five seconds of power, which actually felt like five hours to him. I tried not to overthink it too much. The physics of it all just ended up causing my brain to chase its own tail.

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