About thirty minutes after their "entanglement", Laura waited for Alex at the town's southern exit. He was still uncertain why she had asked to meet him there, but she insisted on showering first and now wore casual clothes: a white flower-embroidered blouse over a long, flowy black skirt. Alex didn't want to be the only one smelling like he'd just wrestled a gorilla, so he had also used the shower facilities and changed into casual wear himself. She greeted him with a smile, and he wasn't sure how to take that anymore.

"Um… hello," he said.

"Why, hello. It's good to see you again so soon, Alex."

"Yeah, good to…"

He trailed off, vaguely aware that Laura could tell what he was feeling. But to what extent? Did that mean he didn't need to apologize if she could just feel how sorry he was? No, he'd said some pretty awful things—he would have to, eventually.

But was he even wrong about the things he'd said?

Well, some of it, maybe. Definitely, actually. But hell—what gave her the right to look in on his emotions in the first place? Or to beat him up? Or to…

Alex grimaced. No, this was his fault. He'd just thought she was like all the other devout mages so he'd—

Wait—hold on! His mind suddenly panicked. Does she know how hot I found her?!

He hadn't initially, of course—not until long after the pain subsided. But when he'd been in the showers, thinking about the way she'd so expertly disabled him… the raw vigor with which she'd…

"Alex," Laura said with a sigh, "I can't control my power. It's why I don't go around telling everyone I'm an Empath. Please just treat me like you normally would."

"Well, that's a bit hard," he said, suppressing another blush. "Up until thirty minutes ago, I hated your guts, to be honest."

Laura gave him that look women give when you've just said something you were supposed to keep to yourself. He added, "Sorry about that, by the way."

She sighed again. "I'm… sorry too. I lost control of myself, and that was… a little extreme even for most criminal confessions. It's just… the sheer pain you carry with you, Alex, it felt like you were practically begging—"

"We don't have to talk about it," he suggested.

"...No, I guess we don't. Needless to say, I've blown off a lot of steam already. I'm not going to bite you if you stand closer than a meter from me, Alex."

"Ah…"

Reluctantly, he waddled closer to her. She smelled nice, he noticed—citrusy. It must've been her shampoo, but he put it out of his mind. They weren't strolling out for a picnic here. And after everything they had just gone through, increased confidentiality was the only reason he could see for her dragging him out of town. So perhaps she'd chosen to reveal her mission to him afterall. If not, then he really didn't know why she put up with being around him.

"Where are you taking me?" he asked eventually.

They had strayed off the main road a while back and were cutting through a trail in the jungle. But she just told him he'd see when they got there. Lo and behold, a few minutes later, she peeled apart the foliage to reveal a meadow of flowers.

"Pretty, isn't it?" she said.

Alex was briefly lost for words. Just like the town itself, the meadow was vibrant with color. He saw purple cornflowers, white daisies, red whatever-those-were-called, and the faint blue glow of lilies that were obviously magical in nature. It… was pretty, but he wasn't the right person to appreciate the view. He plucked a lily, examined it with his skill, then tossed it aside. Alyssa had once brought him a crown twined from flower stems. He wondered if she'd do the same with these if she were here.

Then out of the corner of his eye, he saw Laura shift uncomfortably.

Oh. So that's what that's about.

But he didn't care to open that can of worms, so he walked to the meadow's edge. Peering at the ocean below, he realized they were standing on one of the rocky crags he had spotted flanking the beach when coming ashore. He had a clear view of the beach—of the whole island, even—but he never would've guessed what was up here just by looking from below. Surely Laura didn't need somewhere this secluded if she had privacy wards, right?

When he turned back, he saw Laura flap a quilted blanket, laying it down on a patch of grass. She sat with her legs together off to one side, smoothing out her skirt. He quirked his brow.

"Patience, Alex," she said. "I know you have a lot to ask, but you've already taken up enough of my time today. If you want to talk business, you'll have to let me have my picnic first."

Oh. So they were out for a picnic.

Laura patted a spot on the blanket next to her. It didn't seem like an optional invitation, so he joined her, sitting amidst the flowers. She brought out a wicker basket from her inventory, embroidered with even more flowers, and Alex thought he was starting to notice a theme. Then instead of opening the basket, she simply stared ahead and breathed in the view.

He waited patiently for a minute or two, but Laura didn't stir. She'd reached out to brush the petals of those ethereal lilies, but that was it. It was as if she'd forgotten he was there entirely. Those strange frogs he kept hearing punctuated the silence with high-pitched squeaks, and the wind washed over the field, wisping through the meadow flowers as it voyaged in-land from the ocean. The ocean currents were violent today, and Alex could only think Donovan had been right about this storm's unnatural origin. Because the sun was out, the breeze was gentle, and the bees didn't seem to mind.

"We haven't really had much chance to talk, have we?" Laura eventually said.

"Not much, no."

That conversation starter went nowhere. Alex pretended to take in the view too—after trying and failing to find something to twiddle his hands with—knowing full well the front he put up was seen right through. Then his stomach growled.

Hearing that, Laura folded back the wicker basket's lid. "Please help yourself."

Inside were neatly lined sandwiches with steak, avocado, tomato, and some kind of pepper. They looked… appetizing, and he hadn't eaten in a while. He almost reached for them, before being hit with intense shame.

"Thanks… but I'm not hungry," he said with some restraint, "How do you even find time to cook all this anyway?"

"It's just my way of destressing," Laura said, "I love the look on people's faces when they enjoy my food, so please, help yourself."

Alex's stomach growled again and he suddenly became wary that the consternation he felt reflected on his face. He looked up, and Laura had a laugh in her eyes. If her words were to be believed, he'd be helping her by helping himself. It was too good of an answer to be real, too perfect to not have been prepared ahead of time. All of her was, really, but…

"So… the smile is real, then?" he asked.

"Sometimes," Laura said. "We all wear masks, Alex. I smile when I'm feeling joyous, and I also smile when doing so puts others at ease."

"…and, which one is this?"

She just smiled at him.

"Why don't you give it a try?" she asked. "Come on, smile for me."

"I don't have a good smile."

"Try."

He groaned. "Uh… like this?"

He smiled and she leaned forward, her own smile stretching further. Her's was the latter type, he presumed. A meager attempt at putting him at ease. But did she really have to make it look so bright?

"You want to know a secret?" Laura asked, playful and conspiratorial.

She continued without his input, "Putting others at ease makes me joyous."

Alex's smile dropped into a grimace.

"And you do have a nice smile, Alex."

"Don't lie," he said.

"But I'm not—"

"Yes you are. It's not something I'm insecure about, but I'm objectively ugly and I'm aware of that. When I stretch my lips they touch the scar down my eye—makes me look like I have a glasgow smile."

"It is something you're insecure about, Alex," Laura insisted. "And that's okay. Beauty is in the eye of the behol—"

"Oh yeah? And what does my beholder have to say about—ah, no actually, don't answer that. Christ, makes me sound like I'm fishing for compliments, just cause you're the first woman to pay this much attention to me in a while."

He huffed a sigh—then frowned.

…Wait, had he been?

Laura pursed her lip, examining his face. His heart skipped a beat. "Alex, don't take this the wrong way, but—"

"You're not a bad cook," he said quickly, reaching for a sandwich.

That solved the question of what to do with his hands. He took a bite, then his eyes shot open. He almost moaned but cut himself off. Laura stayed, thankfully, silent as he ate. In truth, she was an excellent cook. It's just… Why was she feeding him?

Team-building exercise—duh. They'd just beat the shit out of one another, and they'd have to entrust their lives to each other in combat. The sandwiches were transactional. Not taking the sandwich would have signaled left-over animosity. Which… he shouldn't have?

Well, she was a Mage—a zealot moreover—but… all signs led to her being a good person. And she'd… cried for him. She'd also pummeled him half to death. Fuck, there wasn't a single thing about this that wasn't humiliating.

Still, shouldn't he be the one making amends? After everything he'd said and done? And yet, here he was, shamelessly licking his fingers after devouring the sandwich she'd graciously given to him; camping in on her flower-themed picnic, while being constantly assaulted by that angelic smile of hers. Something about it irritated him to no end.

But most importantly, the things she knew about him…

"You know, you are attractive, Alex," Laura suddenly said.

Alex coughed—sputtered. "Wh-what?"

"I'm a little old to appreciate your looks, but even I can see it."

Something about the way she said that made his eye spasm. He found his emotions tugged in several directions, but knowing that she was reading them made him unwilling to examine them closer. He scowled.

"None of this makes sense," he stated. "You should hate me by now."

"Should I?"

"You know me better than anyone else alive somehow. So yes."

Laura pondered this, twirling her finger around the stem of a daisy, plucking a petal. "I think hate is a strong word. Though, I do resent you a little." She plucked another petal. "But does that mean I have to show you my resentment?"

"That's what I do. It's what I did to you."

"I know." Laura giggled. "And it's kind of funny actually, but that's one of the things I like about you. Most people just bottle it up, and I have to pretend I don't notice they're not being genuine. With you, it's not even a secret."

"You're… welcome?"

If the way she laughed at him was any cue, that clearly wasn't the right response. Regardless—it was actually one of his pet peeves too.

"Doesn't that make you a hypocrite?" he asked.

"Hmm… A little," Laura admitted. "You just don't last long in my world by making enemies with everyone you dislike. Besides, you're missing the point. I don't resent you for the reasons you believe, Alex, and resentment is only a small part of what I feel toward you. People are multifaceted creatures, don't you know?"

"I'm… starting to realize, yeah. And those reasons are?"

Laura stopped laughing. "Are you sure you want to know?"

"Tell me. I think I have a good idea of what they are anyhow."

She squinted at him in a way that suddenly made Alex feel unsure of what he'd just walked into. Then she took a… longer-than-normal breath in preparation.

"Well first, you're obstinate," she said. "You're so stuck in your own views that when you see anything that contradicts them, it's like you can't even believe it. You wear your heart on your sleeve, which I like, but Alex, you're always just so, so angry. And when you're angry, you always seem to know exactly what to say to hurt someone the most. I mean, why can't you be that verbose when you have nice things to say? Do you even have nice things to say?"

She plucked more petals from the daisy. "You're observant, Alex. But you don't care about your surroundings unless they're out to harm you. You're incredibly driven—perhaps more than anyone I've met—but you lose sight of yourself; you never stop to smell the roses or even to feel the sun on your skin. And I know it's not that you can't appreciate these things—you just don't. You close yourself off to everyone and everything around you. You're passionate about your smithing work, but do you ever bother to talk about it? I'd actually love to hear your process but—by the Seven, Alex—whenever someone tries to talk to you for longer than a minute, you completely shut down!"

Alex paled. She began ripping petals with more emphasis. "You don't take care of yourself! You go long stretches without eating; you brush your teeth only once a day! You don't regulate your sleep, and whenever you do sleep, your nightmares are so awful that I can't sleep! You're nihilistic, pessimistic, cynical, and just so, so hard on yourself—and every time you beat yourself up in there, you know that I have to feel it too, right?!

Alex winced, but she wasn't done.

"And worst of all, you're a bigot, Alex!" she fumed. "You think all Mages are out to destroy the world when many of us are just living our lives, doing the best we can to uplift our communities! It's infuriating! Do you really think I want to abandon all these children? Do you?!"

Laura heaved in anger, and by the time she'd finished her tirade, the daisy had no petals left. Alex was speechless. On another day, under different circumstances, he could've seen himself getting angry, and it would've only proven her right. He watched in silence, like a child expecting another beating, as she wolfed down half a sandwich with angry bites. She'd huffed, and found another daisy to pluck petals from—but stopped herself, lifting the petal-less one's yellow cone to her nose.

She sighed. "See, Alex? Give someone with my abilities a week, and I can find all these reasons to resent a person. But you're so much more than just your flaws. You're a recluse, yet you're always so thoughtful in the ways you interact with people. Too thoughtful maybe, and… there's just so much good inside of you that—"

Alex held up his hand. "Alright, that's enou—"

"No, it's not enough!" Laura snapped. "You sat there for a whole minute while I vented my resentments and you can't even make it through ten seconds of compliments?! Are you that scared to acknowledge that you care?"

"I don't—"

"Oh yes you do, Alex," she said. "You care about so much more than you let on. You're misguided—and you act with such reckless abandon that it's going to get you killed someday—but you can't ignore the things you find wrong and I… I envy that. How could I ever hate you when you have so much compassion—"

"Compassion?! That isn't worth shit," Alex growled. "Did compassion stop me from killing all those people in Nightmare? Or 'snuffing out their lights' as you put it? What good have I ever done for—"

"You gave that girl your sword," Laura said.

"Baked goods, you mean?"

She fixed him with a glare. He glared back.

"I helped one girl—who's probably going to die anyway—and that's out of how many?!"

"Alex, You can't carry the weight of the world on your should—"

"And I'm not trying to!" he yelled. "You're just seeing what you want to see, Laura. I know myself, and I'm not that kind of person! You don't know the things I've…"

He cut himself off.

"…But I do know, Alex. You've confessed your sins to me."

His vision blurred. Anger welled in his chest. If you know, then…

"Then… how can you still…"

A tear fell down Laura's face, and Alex hated that. He hated the emotion her eyes conveyed as she scooted closer. He hated her hand as it came to rest on his cheek; despised its warmth. He hated that all this was wasted on someone who didn't deserve it.

He turned away.

"I hate you," he seethed. "How can you cry for someone like me? I told you! I couldn't even care to remember them! I felt nothing."

"And that's why you can't forgive yourself, Alex? That's what this is about? You killed people, I know. You killed many. To survive, and then to honor the lives that you had already taken. Because you didn't know how else to express your kindness."

"Kindness?" He scoffed. "You're under a misunderstanding, priestess. Don't presume to—"

"No, you are, Alex," Laura interrupted. "And you… you can't even see it anymore, can you?"

"See what? You don't—"

Alex's next words were lost the moment he looked at Laura's face. Her expression so uncannily mirrored something inside him that he couldn't bring himself to say more.

"Even if you can't see it, I know you feel guilt for them, Alex," she said, her eyes locked on his. "They were just people. Troubled people. But you didn't do it to alleviate guilt—heavens it only ever added more to your shoulders. You did it because you believed you had to. Then, you had to do it for them too. And now look at you! You've whittled yourself down to nothing—how could that be anything more than punishment?!"

Her words were like an attack, and he only came back to himself when he noticed her thumb brushing moisture from his cheek. He slapped her hand away. "'Under the Seven Sisters, all life is precious'—isn't that right?"

He sneered.

"Life is precious," Laura reprimanded. "But you don't need me to tell you that."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Laura didn't answer. "With everything that I can see, Alex, do you know why I let you into our party?"

Alex hesitated. When she held his eyes now, he saw such certainty in them that he quailed a little. She smiled, but then he noticed her gaze traveled up and over past him. His spirits began to stir.

"Did you not find it odd that the souls of your victims weren't able to harm you?" Laura asked. "You told me, Alex, that you killed your party members. Maybe you truly believe that, but it's a lie. Because no one who's truly evil could have such kind spirits acting as their Guardians."

"As my… Guardians?"

Alex's voice choked. Laura rested her hand back on his cheek, knowing he didn't have what it took to push her away again. His eyes watered. He hated it; hated her.

"And all those people you killed?" she said. "The ones you regret, and even the ones you say you don't… they're all here, Alex. If you truly felt nothing from their deaths, they couldn't have haunted you as they have. But feeling hollow is not the same as feeling nothing."

Laura's expression grew serious. Her palm began to glow.

"Hey! What are you—!"

"Hollow is the despair of one who wallows in the shadow of darkness," she incanted, "and darkness must be cleansed."

Her eyes alighted; Divine Energy flooded into Alex from her palm and made the spirits scream. They were screams of anger, of rage, of sorrow. He heard their pleas—their tearful drivel, their begging that preceded their deaths. From some, he heard no such thing. Only a sharp gasp, a gargled sputter. Yet he re-lived that moment all the same.

For each soul he had taken he felt.

Their fear.

Their anguish.

Their despair.

One soul after another, as they were spirited away the gripping cold; their torment was endless.

And then, he felt something else. Hope.

"Get to the return stone, Alex!" Douglas yelled. He gripped his battle-axe in both hands, "One of us has to make it out of here alive!"

Through Douglas's eyes, Alex saw his younger self. That spineless manchild trembled, and only hesitated a second before running for the cavern entrance. An explosion thundered where he'd just been, and blood streamed down his neck and back in the aftermath. Alex wanted to scream at the bastard to stop—to make him turn around and fight. He wanted to curse at him for being such a coward. He should take a stand and die with the rest of them!

But those were only his emotions.

In his final moments, Douglas felt no resentment. He watched Alex go, then interjected his pursuers, but there were too many of them. His roar was cut short by pain. He grit his teeth, yanking an arrow out of his chest, and dropped his weapon, laughing weakly. This was it then. Cold gripped him.

But despite the pain and the bitter betrayal that had caused all this, he couldn't help feeling a hint of hope, looking back at what he'd protected. Pride, in that giving his life might mean something.

"Better you than me." he rasped with his final breath. "All these hands are good for is violence…"

Sinking to his knees, the gentle giant passed.

"Douglas!" Julia screamed. "Shit! Oscar, Douglas is—"

"I know!" Oscar growled. "And we'll be soon to follow! But every second counts! We have to—"

Alex's time in Oscar's body was pitifully short as his voice was suddenly drowned out by a thunderous boom. There'd been no time for Oscar to experience his death. For someone who had been such a good friend, his life was snuffed out all too quickly.

Alex's perspective shifted once more.

"Oscar.."

Julia gaped at the crater in the ground where Oscar had stood. It was just her now. She felt so alone, but… she wasn't. She knew Alex was still out there, and that meant she couldn't afford to falter. He'd been burned badly across his back, but that wouldn't stop him.

"Dammit, Alex," she muttered. "You better make it!"

If any of them escaped this hellhole, it had better be the one who could do the most good in the world. And God knew a fuck-up like her wasn't it. Her hands shook, but she raised her weapon against her enemies. Against those spineless Mages doing the bidding of vampires… and that sweet fucker Tyrell.

Her enemies rushed forward and Alex wanted to scream at Julia—to tell her how wrong she was about him, how little she truly knew. Good? He'd only ever put himself first! His resolve had always been so much weaker than theirs! He was weak. Couldn't they see that?!

Julia saw the flash of blue light from the cavern entrance behind her. Relief washed through her and she smiled, twirling her staff around her shoulders and leveling it at her enemies—enjoying their outrage as they realized that neither the Sunstone nor the smith had landed in their hands.

She knew only one thing as she faced her death. It had been worth it.

* * *

Alex lay in a meadow of flowers, feeling as if he'd just awoken from a long dream. The flowers took up more of his world from this angle. Transformed by the glow of sunset, they took on a slightly golden hue of their original colors as they swayed mesmerizingly in the rolling breeze. In rhythm with their sway, he heard a faint melodic hum. Blearily he touched his eyes. They were raw and moist.

Then he touched his pillow and his eyes widened in alarm. Laura hummed softly, her thighs cushioning his head where she lounged. She busied herself with thread and needle, embroidering…

Is that the Death Star?

"Oh, Alex. You're awake."

He flushed as Laura noticed him looking at the wrong places. "I-I… am? And I'm like this because?"

Smiling sweetly, she set down her embroidery kit. As she brushed his bangs from his eyes, he noticed she'd tucked a petal-less daisy behind his ear. She placed her palm on his forehead, as though checking his temperature. "I needed to make sure the Divine Energy circulated throughout your body. But… you should be good now."

Her hands were warm and gentle, soothing as his mind wandered, reflecting on what he'd seen. He turned his head to the side. A gust blew through the field of flowers, carrying more than just loose petals with it.

"They're really gone…" he whispered.

The three of them… they'd been gone, but he'd grown used to them haunting him—always looking over his shoulder. For the first time in a long while, he felt truly alone.

Perhaps that was why Laura didn't move her hand away. She started stroking his head like he was a child, and he worried for a second that she actually saw him as one. But in the absence of more familiar hands… he didn't push her away.

"I guess they weren't haunting me…" he murmured.

"No, Alex," Laura said. "You were being haunted, but not by them. They were there because they chose to be… but their protection clearly burdened you. It was well past time they were laid to rest."

"Did they…"

"They didn't regret it, Alex."

His eyes burned as he stared off at the darkening horizon. He had been blind to think that they would. Oscar, Douglas, Julia—for as long as he'd known them, they'd always had strong conviction. He had never seen them walk back their beliefs, even if they'd believed in the wrong man. It had been so easy to get caught up in their wind.

Alex's tears dampened Laura's skirt, and she wiped them from his cheek with her thumb.

"Alex," she whispered, "did something ever happen that could've caused you to become a spiritual medium?"

"Why do you ask?" he rasped.

"Even if you had protectors, It's unusual for so many spirits to latch onto a soul and not corrupt it."

"So what… you're saying I could be a shaman?" he joked half-heartedly.

"Alex," She said sternly.

She looked at him in a way that said this was important. He took a shaky breath, then she stroked his head some more, as he told her about his time in Nightmare, and his experience with the Lost Souls. Somehow, maybe thanks to what he'd just seen, or maybe thanks to her soothing nature, he managed to get through his story without panic. And when he finished, he wiped the last of his tears, and moved her hand away.

"I'm not a child," he sulked. "If you weren't celibate, I'd start getting the wrong idea, Laura."

Alas, she didn't stop petting him and he didn't push her away a second time. He didn't even get up from her lap. It was the curse of being around an Empath, that he couldn't put up a front. She made him feel comfortable, and she knew that.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

The curse of an Empath…

That thought stuck around for a few blissful minutes more before he grabbed her wrist, then sat up to face her at eye level. For a second, he simply examined her—her eyes, the way they read him; her lips, how they pursed in thought. As his Guardian Spirits, his friends had looked out for him all this time, but their touch had always been cold. He pulled Laura's hand to his cheek. It was warm. Tender. The touch of another human.

"Thank you," he said. "But what do you get out of this?"

"Yes?" Laura tilted her head. She smiled, then drew her brows together slightly, and he reckoned the smile she wore now was a third type she hadn't mentioned previously.

"Fulfillment… I guess?" She said, as if it were a question.

Alex couldn't help himself. He laughed. It came straight from his belly, and he had to wipe more tears since they leaked so easily right now. He set Laura's hand down at her side and left it there.

"'I guess?'" he mimicked. "Not so easy to read your own emotions now, is it?"

Laura looked nonplussed, and something in Alex felt like pushing. "You know, you look beautiful with your hair down, Laura. I love your outfit too. Did you embroider those flowers yourself?"

"W-What? Yes—I…" She shook her head. "Alex, where is this coming from?"

He snorted. "Asks the Empath. You were the one who told me I should say more nice things, right? Or what, you can't handle the taste of your own medicine?" He laughed, holding her gaze with that smile she'd thought was so "attractive," then rested his hand on her cheek. "It's nice that I don't have to worry about you thinking I'm making advances. Because your smile's even prettier when you're blushing."

His hand lingered a little long though, and he followed up with a somewhat awkward punch to her shoulder. "I'm a little young to appreciate your looks, but even I can see it."

She seemed taken aback for a second, then her smile reasserted itself—just slightly different this time.

"That's very sweet of you," she said.

Alex shrugged, thinking nothing of it. Then he took the petal-less daisy from his hair and twirled it between his fingers. He could feel Laura's eyes on him, trying to make sense of his emotions, just as he was, trying to figure out how to react. Now that he noticed on it, he realized it was probably second nature to her. His smile grew bittersweet as he stared out, listening to the melodic crash of ocean waves, and feeling everything pass through him.

"…You were right, you know," he said. "At least, about some of it. I couldn't live with the things I'd done, and I was afraid to look too close at the reasons I'd done them. Maybe I was afraid that if I peeled back everything else, I'd find something… too human."

He lifted the yellow cone to his nose. "But I guess that's what I am, after all. Human. It's strange—I could accept it so easily for them, but I never could for myself. Somewhere along the line I started thinking I was different—an evil spirit like the rest. If my life were my own, I think I would have ended it all a long time ago. It… was a punishment, in many ways. But…"

He trailed off. Laura almost reached out to touch him but she must have sensed he didn't want that—not like that, at least.

"I guess what's stranger, Laura, is that now that they're gone… I feel empty. Their absence is a weight off my shoulders, but that weight was everything to me. I'm alone now in this moment, experiencing things as they happen—the sun on my skin, the breeze and these flowers, but why should I? That weight… it shouldn't have been lifted, should it?"

"Alex…" Laura smiled ruefully. "When I said I didn't forgive your sins… I was angry. They were never mine to forgive. Nor theirs. Evil spirits don't have the capacity for forgiveness. The Seven Sisters absolved you, and that means something, but the only forgiveness that truly matters is your own."

Alex took in those words, trying to take a moment to process. "That's… insightful."

"No, it isn't. But maybe one day you'll find it to be."

He nodded absentmindedly.

"...and, I would be sad if you killed yourself, Alex," she added after a time.

He nodded again. It seemed like an odd thing to say, until he made the realization himself a moment later. "Oh… I guess emotions really don't lie, do they?" He chuckled. "It's unfortunate you picked up on that, Laura. But people live and they die. The onus… it isn't on you to prevent that."

"It isn't, but…I—" she exhaled. "I promise this is the last time I give unsolicited advice, but please, just give yourself time to heal. When you become a medium for a soul, you're sharing your body with it. With all those souls gone, you're not going to feel like yourself for a while. Slowly, that will begin to change."

"So… you're saying I'm feeling postpartum depression or something?"

Laura balked, then looked deep in thought. "That's… different, but maybe a fitting metaphor?"

Alex had meant it as a joke, but hearing his emotions being chalked up to just "depression" suddenly rubbed him the wrong way. Yet even that irritation didn't seem to matter. He watched the colors fade from the sky, feeling as though he was in a fugue state. He felt, but everything was momentary, and it all passed through him without sticking around for long. They both sat in silence for just a few minutes before Laura grew restless.

"I just don't want to see you throw your life away, Alex. You're not evil. And you have so much compassion—"

"Or so you keep saying," he said. "But this "compassion" you see doesn't make me a good person. Could something born from a twisted place ever be pure?"

"Yes. It could. That's what your friends believed, isn't it?"

Her mention of his party members grounded Alex again, but her eyes were tinged with sadness in a way that made him all too aware of his vulnerability. She reached out to touch him. He wanted her touch, but as her fingers brushed his arm he recoiled, and she recoiled in turn.

"They protected you all this time, but they knew that you couldn't move on so long as they remained," she said. "You must find something else to live for—"

"I thought you were done handing out unsolicited advice," Alex snapped.

Laura brought the hand he'd rejected close to her chest. He immediately regretted what he'd said when he saw her expression—the way her eyes lost their glamour.

"I'm sorry. This always happens when people discover my abilities. I suddenly start thinking I've grown close to them, but you'll never know me the way I know you."

Something inside Alex broke when he heard that.

"I…I'm just… I'm a mess right now, Laura. I don't know if I deserve happiness, and I'm not sure I want to keep on living if I can never be happy. But… what I do know is that if I kill myself, then everyone who has died to keep me alive… I'd be making their lives meaningless. And that's an unforgivable sin. I'll live, Laura. So you… you don't have to worry about that."

Though, for all he'd just assured her, she still looked pretty worried. "Your life is your own, Alex… and I guess that also means it's not mine to lecture on. I'll accept that, for now. May I also take this to mean you won't act with such reckless abandon from here on?"

Alex grimaced. That was another thing she'd been spot on about. When he'd pit himself against all those guilds, he hadn't really cared whether it would lead to his end. Maybe he'd hoped it would. Yet, he was still here.

"I'll take better care of my life," he said. "I can't be selfish anymore."

Laura hesitated. Then she took another breath, and her relief was palpable. Alex felt bad about making her suffer all his angst. That thought echoed in his mind again: That being an empath was its own curse. Given he was someone who knew what it was like having innate abilities you couldn't control, he really hadn't been understanding with her in that regard.

But when he looked back up, he felt something had changed about Laura. Something invisible, beneath the surface. Her eyes were still soft, her smile bright, but he could tell, somehow, that this was the second type of smile, a mask worn to put him at ease. And for some reason, buy into the idea that doing so brought her so much joy as she claimed.

A knot of guilt twisted in his stomach. Her arm was still crossed over her heart. It occurred to him that he still hadn't given her a real apology about anything, really. He opened his mouth to speak—but she opened hers first.

"You've slept for a while, Alex. Especially now, you need to be eating three meals a day. Is there anything I've cooked that's a favorite of yours?"

Alex's mouth still hung open. For a second, it seemed as though she'd intentionally cut off his apology. Then his stomach growled again, and his mind became fixated on a much greater concern.

"Wait. You have carbon copies of all those dishes?" he asked. "Just how much food do you have in there, Laura?!"

"Do you have a favorite?" she repeated.

He groaned. Of course him being an emotional eater was something she'd pick up on. And begrudgingly, he could feel his "emptiness" being filled with joy for each second he spent salivating and narrowing the list down to a favorite. Even though he'd not visited the church since he got here, Eric had still brought Alex food deliveries each day over the past week. Alex hadn't asked where he was getting all this delicious home-cooked Mexican food from, but of course he'd known, and it only made him feel more ashamed now.

Still, if he had to choose a favorite…

"It might be basic of me, but tacos," he said. "And you're an amazing cook, Laura. Just so you know."

"Thank you," she said. "I learned from my mother."

Alex stored that information, figuring out what to do with it as Laura handed out checkered napkins—which he layered over his lap in abundance out of a deathly fear of staining her quilt. Then, she brought out two trays, plates, and like magic, she summoned tacos. And also… a bowl of soup?

"What's this?" Alex asked.

"It's birria," she answered. "A type of goat stew. Try dipping the tacos into it."

Alex watched her do the honors. She tucked her hair back and leaned over, seemingly both slurping and eating her taco at the same time. She wiped her mouth with a napkin, then he followed suit. He did moan this time, then coughed to cover up his embarrassment. "My bad, I guess you probably weren't expecting I'd ask for something so messy out on a picnic."

"That's okay. I'm also enjoying myself," she said.

Alex hmm'd, then ate everything on his plate, glancing Laura's way every so often. Her words seemed true, and he quickly got the sense that while she relished other people's enjoyment of her cooking, it wasn't the real reason she cooked. It seemed she just loved food, and loved it enough to know the most delicious stuff is worth the mess it takes to eat it. When she finished, he offered her some soap and water to rinse her hands with and pointed out a smear she'd missed on her cheek. Then he asked her if he'd missed anything on his face. Apparently, he'd missed a lot.

"You're right, you know… we really haven't had much chance to talk," he remarked.

"We haven't," Laura said. "But you've indulged me with my picnic, Alex. You may ask questions now."

"Yeah, so your mother—" Alex blinked, realizing what kind of questions she meant. "Wait, you mean you'll tell me about your real mission?"

"Isn't that the reason you came to the church this morning?" she asked.

"It is, but…" Alex frowned, uncertain why he was hesitating, "well sure, tell me then."

Laura straightened, smoothing her skirt and folding her legs beneath her. "First, Alex, there's a few things about the Seven Sisters you should know. Their presence has been felt on Earth for far longer than any other Constellation, dating back a hundred-thousand years. I understand your misgivings, but they actually care what happens to this planet. I don't intend to solicit your help by telling you my mission, and I promise I won't place you in danger, but if you want to understand what's at stake, then I'll tell you the full truth. My order, the Convent of the Seven Sisters, has roots dating back to ancient Aztec and times before. Our role was to oversee the New Fire Ceremony, the Binding of the Years, held every fifty-two years when the two-hundred-sixty day divination cycle, Tōnalpōhualli, overlapped with the three-hundred-sixty-five day solar cycle, Xiuhpōhualli, marking the turn of an era. In those times, a sacrifice would be offered. Their heart would be cut out, and a fire placed in their chest when the Pleiades were at the zenith in the night sky. If the fire lived and the Seven Sisters continued their cycle, the sun would be renewed and rise again at dawn. If the fire burnt out however, and the heavens stopped, the apocalypse—"

"Uh—sorry, what?"

Alex held up his hand, signalling Laura to stop.

She almost hadn't, with how she'd been rushing through her words. It was like she was there with him in presence, polite and smiley as ever, but withdrawn somehow. As if she'd raised a wall between them, and was just going through the motions. He could tell that this was Laura, Priestess of the Seven Sisters, and not Laura… Laura… What was her last name anyway?

"Sorry, I guess starting with a history lesson is a little jarring, but this all correlates with the Seven Sisters' aims," Laura said. "I can go a little slower if you—"

"No, that's uh… well, that's just not what I meant by 'talking' exactly."

"Oh, if it's the Sunstone you're concerned about, it would of course be a great help but I'm telling you this of my own accord. I won't require that you…"

"It's not the Sunstone," Alex said.

"Then… do you not want to hear it?" she asked.

He could tell she was struggling to tell his emotions, and so was he. Something about this felt wrong. Of course, the things she was saying sounded like they led somewhere important; he needed to hear it. But what would happen when she was done? With the blacksmith cleansed and whipped into line, would her task here just be finished?

No, it really was important that he heard this, though. But…

"I suppose I can skip over the less relevant parts," Laura said. "The Aztec are in the past, after all. But the Order of the Seven Sisters has continued, and the reason this is important is because the next New Fire Ceremony is—"

Laura froze, her eyes suddenly alighting with Divine Energy. When it left, her expression flashed with deep concern in the second before she smoothed it over.

"Laura?" Alex asked. "Is everything okay?"

"…Yes, it is. Just, I'm afraid that's all I can say on the subject, however. The Seven Sisters intend to reveal things to you directly."

"Directly?"

"Likely through a dream, while you sleep."

Well, that was deeply disconcerting. But what concerned him more in that moment, was the way Laura gauged him. He was feeling a lot better now, better than he had in a long, long time, and she smiled upon noticing that. He felt a sudden spike of annoyance at her smile, then more annoyance as she shifted uncomfortably and began to rise.

"I had a pleasant time but it's getting late. I shou—"

He grabbed her wrist.

"Did you have a pleasant time? Really?"

She tilted her head just slightly, and Alex began to notice the imperceptible pauses she took before responding. To decipher, and decide what mask to wear.

"Yes," she said. "It turns out you're quite the lady's man when you're not being haunted by evil spirits."

Alex snorted. "Then stay for a bit. The sunset isn't even at its most beautiful yet."

She did. They stayed in silence for a time, watching the sun slowly fall. Laura's hurt expression stayed engraved in his mind with her words: "You'll never know me the way I know you."

Alex tried to figure out what he wanted to say. But when you're truly sorry about something, you realize that words could never encompass what you feel. He remembered the feeling of Laura's cartilage crunching against his head, her blood covering his fist. She had instigated that fight, but it had been his fault. That knot in his stomach tightened, his fists clenched, then he turned to face her. "Laura, I—"

"How about we just start fresh?" she interrupted.

Alex shook his head, taken aback. "What? Why?"

"I understand completely where you're coming from, Alex. Everything that happened, I don't blame you for it. And we'll be working closely in the coming months, so if there's an awkwardness between us, well, we can just restart our relationship today."

She absently twirled her hair, and he felt as though he caught a part of that she'd left unsaid: And forget that I'm an Empath.

His eye twitched. "I'm not that shameless, Laura. I'm offended you'd even suggest that."

"Oh, I'm sorry for—"

"God please, enough of that!" Alex snapped. "Just because I'm feeling shit doesn't mean I mean anything by it. You've picked up some real nasty habits from being an Empath, haven't you?"

The puzzled look she gave him made Alex sigh. "Nevermind. Just save your apologies for when you actually have something to apologize for, will you? And don't suggest stupid things. Who would even benefit from us pretending to start fresh?"

"I… you're right. I'm sorry, Alex, I guess I wasn't thinking. I assumed you might feel more at ease if—"

"No, of course I wouldn't." Alex scratched at his eye, then stopped. "You're the one who said to talk normally, Laura, so just talk normally. Or don't—I mean, I can understand if that's difficult. You're an Empath, and it's part of who you are. This is only awkward if you make it awkward, and you're the one making it awkward right now."

Laura paused again, probably trying to make sense of his emotions. Yet, somehow, he felt that he was the one getting a better read on her right now. Christ, he didn't even need to be an Empath to know that her brain was spinning on all the wrong gears. Who would've guessed that the woman beneath would be such a ditz?

After a moment, Laura reached out, soothingly, with a smile. "I understand," she said, "I'm sorry if—"

He cut her off with another sigh, and reminded himself to have grace. Well, it's relieving to know I still have my anger issues.

"Anyway, is your mother still alive?"

Laura blinked, then shook her head. "No. It happened when I was still a child."

"I see…"

Alex reached out to comfort her, but for some reason aborted the motion for another shoulder punch. Why the fuck did I just do that?

"I'm sorry to hear that, Laura," he said. "But you learned how to cook from her, right? Is that why food is so important to you?"

"Yes… actually, that's part of it. I had a lot of younger siblings, so she needed my help around the kitchen. She was a seamstress. She loved flowers, and I also learned how to embroider from her."

"Did she also love star-wars?" Alex asked. "Or did you pick up that interest on your own?"

Laura laughed, seemingly taken aback by his question. "No, that was one of my younger brothers, Arturo," she said. "We grew up poor in rural Mexico, so his clothes were always hand-me-downs. He used to get upset that I patched them up "too girly," but he was too sweet to say anything about it. I didn't think it was important, but one day he came home with bruises. We had the first three star wars movies on VHS, so I put them in looking for cooler designs. I ended up watching the trilogy twice before I fixed it."

She smiled, bittersweet. "He still got teased though…"

It hadn't escaped Alex that she spoke of all her family in past-tense. He also noticed with a pang that she'd begun twining a crown from the stems of flowers, the way Alyssa would. He reached out, comforting her properly this time, and she scooted a little closer.

"How many siblings do you—"

"It's okay, Alex," Laura said. "You don't have to ask more about this."

"I want to ask about it though."

"Even though it's causing you such pain?" she asked.

Alex felt a knot in his chest. "I… yes, even still. I had my own sibling, you know. I'm not great at reminiscing, but Alyssa and I… we understood from a very young age that we were all each other had. I remember we used to play pretend: that I was her knight and she was my princess. I always thought that my purpose was to protect her, and to give her a fair chance at life. But I wasn't good at it. Funnily enough, even though I was six years older, she ended up being the one to teach me how to read."

"She sounds like a sweet girl," Laura said.

"She…. yeah. So does Arturo—Arturo, am I saying that right? He also seems like a nice kid. What were your other sibling's names?"

Laura shifted uncomfortably.

"I ask because you seemed happy when you talked about them," Alex said. "Would you rather I ask about something else?"

"No, that's…" She brushed his hand with a pained expression. "Alex… my wounds have had a lot of time to heal. Yours are still—"

He twitched, and she suddenly stopped.

"Please, Laura. I'm saying I don't need that from you."

She didn't seem to know how to respond to that. He sighed. "It's curious, you know? It kind of only dawned on me today how comforting it is to touch someone. Your hand is warm. But when I put my hand on your shoulder like this, does it comfort you as well? Or do you just accept it because you know it comforts me?"

"Both," she said. "If with only a simple gesture, I can bring people a semblance of peace, then that's what comforts me most.

Alex pulled away his hand, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"But… I see that I've angered you with my response."

"You've been reading me for a while now, Laura. I'm always angry. But you didn't feel the need to tip-toe around my emotions until I knew you were an Empath. So what are you so afraid of? That I'll judge you for prioritizing yourself or something? Or maybe this was always your plan. Like 'Hey, let's lure the murderous psycho out to the flower sanctuary, cleanse him, coddle him like a child, and never let him repay the debt'—can't you see how unfair you're being?"

"You're right," she said. "I'm sorry, I didn't look at things from your perspective enough. It seems I've been inconsiderate—"

"No! I'm saying you're being too considerate, dammit!"

She recoiled from him. Alex clicked his tongue, enraged that he'd raised his voice at her.

"Three breaths in, three breaths out."

"What?"

"That's what I always do when it becomes too much," Laura said. "Do them with me."

Alex was skeptical, but he did: in through the nose, out through the mouth. It was… shockingly effective. He took another breath for good measure. "Sorry for raising my—"

"It's okay," Laura interrupted. "I understand without you having to…"

She trailed off, seeing how Alex's lips tightened.

"I'm… it's just habit, Alex. I'll stop doing that if it's causing you…"

He dragged his hand down his face, quelling more of his irritation. How could someone so cognizant of others be so blind and stubborn at the same time? "Let's uh… do the breathing thing again."

Laura, wisely, didn't say more on the subject. She gave him a count and he breathed in, then out, and tried not to feel like a child being guided through a tantrum. Have grace, he told himself, have grace.

When he felt adult enough to discuss things in a calmer manner, he stopped. "Okay. So look, I get it Laura. I grew up with a trait of my own, and it probably wasn't as strong as yours, but I understand how these abilities can shape a person's outlook on life, and it's unfair of me to hold that against you. I've only really gotten to know you today, but you've had to suffer me for much longer than that, am I getting that right?"

"That's… a particular choice of words, but yes."

Alex nodded. Then frowned, sighing away more frustration as the silence stretched without the right words coming in his direction.

"Alex, I don't know what exactly, but I can tell that you're trying to do something kind. But it's okay. I'm a priestess of the Seven Sisters. Guiding people into the light is my passion and my sole purpose in this life."

"Just uh… give me a sec," Alex said. "It's been a while since I've had to put this much effort into talking to someone. I need to figure out how to communicate what I need to communicate."

"If it's making you this frustrated, maybe it could… wait…"

Alex's anger spiked.

"Oh…I…"

It spiked some more.

"It seems my words are…"

"No, your words aren't the—or what I'm trying to say is you can't converse with just my emotions. Because I'm not just my emotions, right? But ever since you stopped hiding your Empath abilities from me, it feels like you've lost all inhibitions."

"I… have, probably. You'll have to forgive me, Alex. It's not something I've revealed to anyone in a long time. Especially as I'm your employer for this job, it might be wise if I respect your boundaries and distance myself from—"

"Fuck me, this right here is the problem Laura. What boundaries? I haven't set any yet! What I feel is not the same as what I want—didn't you say something similar to me just earlier today? My emotions are my own, not yours, and I don't need you to be my fucking therapist. You've done so much for me already, and I've done jack shit but yell at you. I've been awful to you, even I can see that. I just want to—"

Laura touched his shoulder. "It's all right, Alex. I understand—"

"No, you goddamn don't!" he shouted. "I mean… fuck! I don't mean to yell at you, Laura. But do you ever wonder if maybe you're the one closing yourself off to people? If you actually let them finish their fucking sentences, it could make a whole world of difference!"

Laura gaped at him, startled, like a deer caught in headlights.

Ahh, fuck. I've done it again.

He took some more breaths, taking some time to take in the view. He was in a meadow of flowers, watching the sunset. Why was he getting so flustered? Laura was gauging him but she looked a little out of it. If he had to guess, his words might've hurt her a little.

"Again, I didn't mean to yell at you," he said. "And I shouldn't have said all that. But the way you speak about your ability… don't you get lonely?"

Laura's eyes widened. She suddenly averted his gaze.

"Or what, are you scared of what someone would think if they knew you as well as you knew them? Do you have trauma? Did someone learn you were an Empath and it didn't go well? What's going on in your head? I just… I was completely wrong about you Laura. You're a genuinely kind person, and I—"

"It's okay, Alex," she said. "I'm used to… I mean, I already…you don't have to…"

"No, you can't accept an apology I haven't given yet, Laura. I feel like shit cause I treated you like shit, but what I want is to apologize. What I…"

Alex trailed off. Here he was, finally having found the words he wanted to say, and Laura's gaze was downcast. Her head was tilted away; she was still out of it. He tilted her chin so their eyes were level, yet she still averted her gaze. She seemed flustered for some reason, and her eyes would dart away every time they met his own. Even still, he tried his best to convey his sincerity.

"I'm so truly sorry for the way I treated you, Laura," he said. "You've done more for me than I could ever repay, but I want to try. I want to learn more about you. About your family, your interests, even… even your religion. I want to know your emotions, Laura. Are you happy? Sad? If I don't know them, how can I possibly repay you? You've just sacrificed your entire day to help me, but who's there to make you feel comforted? I don't mean to get too sappy, but I mean—after the things you did, I think I care about you, Laura. For the first time in so long, you've got me feeling like making a real connection with someone. And I don't know if I deserve to be your friend after everything, so it's okay to say no, but…"

"Friend?"

Laura's eyes stopped darting. She looked confused.

"Uh… yeah? Is that cool?" Alex asked.

Laura nodded reluctantly. She seemed like she wanted to say something, but she bit her tongue. This close to her, Alex could smell the citrus in her hair. It was orange.

"A-Alright then," he said. "I'm glad we're on the same page. That's neat. I uh, to be honest, I haven't done this in a while. There might be some bumps considering that you're an Empath, but I just want you to treat me like you would any other friend…"

Alex couldn't finish his sentence. He realized suddenly, it wasn't true.

Oh no. No, no, no…

Laura was looking up at him with her large doe eyes, their focus flitting. She wore light mascara on her lashes, a bit of blush on her cheeks. She wore a lot of makeup actually, but Alex had never noticed before. It made her look so… Damn. He tried not to think about it, but he was still tilting her chin up, and he couldn't look away. Were her eyes always so intense? The longer he stared, the more lost he began to feel. Her lips were full. His heart was beating. A strand of hair was out place, and all he wanted was to tuck it behind her ear, lean in, and—

"I'm in love with you, Laura," Alex said. "What I want is to be your lover."

Laura's eyes shimmered while Alex's cringed. Still, he couldn't look away. Curse him for falling for an Empath. Because if he noticed, that meant she noticed—which made it now or never, and he'd much prefer now. He leaned in closer, and she didn't pull away. His hand came to rest on the back of her head. His heart pounded harder. He wasn't an Empath, but the look in her eyes—she wanted this. Their lips were almost touching.

Then Laura's eyes darkened. "Alex… I won't be with someone who doesn't respect what I stand for."

"I—what?"

"You… don't remember?" Laura pursed her lip, a slightly guilty expression crossing her face. "I… took a vow of celibacy, Alex. I can't…"

Alex's heart shattered. His hands fell away from her, and all that heart-pounding tension that had welled in his chest like an explosion died with anticlimactic sigh. He stared out into the horizon, spinning the petal-less daisy between his fingers. We want what we can't have. And she loves me not.

Well, he may have just broken a record for the fastest rejection ever. He just felt guilty that she had to feel like this too.

"Alex… I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. The truth is—"

"No," he said, stopping her. "Just let me think for a second."

Alex put his head down and contemplated on the five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. He had experienced a lot of grief over the past year, and he knew he could skip straight to acceptance if he wanted. But… what if that wasn't the healthiest approach? What if there was value in those other ones?

He went back to bargaining and had a stark thought. Just because Laura couldn't didn't necessarily mean she didn't want to, right?

"Alex—"

"Wait," he told her. "I got too caught up in the rush of things. Please let me do this properly."

Laura looked pensive but waited as he reached out and plucked some flowers for his bouquet. Purple cornflowers, white daisies, those red thingies, the magical-looking lilies. He wasn't well versed in the language of flowers, but a fuck-ton of flowers should send a clear enough message right?

His heart started beating faster again as he turned to face her, sitting on his knees. She sat with her legs to the side, one arm out to support her, the other hugged tight to her chest. Her expression was dubious at best and his mouth felt suddenly dry.

"Look, I don't want this to come off like the obstinate second attempt of a man who just got rejected… but it is. I've fallen in love with you, Laura. And no, it's not because you're the first girl to be nice to me. Many girls have been nice to me before, but this feeling… it's something I haven't felt since…"

Alex felt his cheeks heat up. Laura's seemed to too. Was it from secondhand embarrassment?

"No, what I meant to say was… well, I don't know, I'm still figuring things out. Normally I'd probably spend at least a year courting you before my confession, and I'm afraid I didn't express myself properly. I forgot that you can't… well, you know. But I don't love you for your body. You're absolutely stunning, Laura and yes, I have impure thoughts when I look at you, but you've vowed yourself to what you believe in, and I'll never disrespect that. If you can't have—or what I mean is—you know I would be happy enough just to kiss, right?"

Alex's cheeks burned. That was totally not the way to start this, and he couldn't bear to see Laura looking at him with disdain, so he averted his gaze.

"Alex, I'm not—"

"Sorry," Alex said. "I—I realize that all sounded very self-centered, and obviously my highest priority would be trying to make you happy. Or no, I would make you happy. I know I haven't been very talkative up till now, and I regret that, but I want to know more about you Laura. Not as a friend, but as a…"

"Alex—"

"And hey, look—I know this might sound extreme from someone who fell in love with you like a minute ago, but life is short. I don't know exactly what celibacy means, but if you've vowed to the Seven not to kiss as well, then I'd only ask for your touch. Your hand—it's warm, Laura and I… I'd hope that my touch could soothe you just as much. And I know I'm not a looker with my scars and all, and I mean, my fingers… well, they're kind of rough and calloused, but—fuck, where am I even going with this. I just— I mean, I don't mean to be overbearing, but I think I felt… happy, you know? Just sitting here with you, looking at flowers, looking at you, just… talking."

Ah fuck, my vision's blurring.

Alex didn't let any tears fall—that would be pathetic—but the embarrassment… and the fact that he really was just happy just to express this to her… it was too much. Maybe it was the way his heart was racing or the way he knew she could feel it.

Had he even handed her the flowers yet?

No, he hadn't. And he wasn't going to. At Laura's sigh, he let all his tension wash away. He put the flowers down, turning to face the ocean. He was on the fifth stage of grief now—acceptance—as he watched the sun dip below the golden ocean.

He scratched his head. "Sorry, that went on longer than I—"

The sun suddenly vanished from Alex's sight as Laura pushed him down on the grass. Her lips pressed against his, and for a panicked second, he couldn't remember how to kiss. She bit into him, hungrily, suffocating any little bit of air between them. Her right hand touched his cheek, her thumb running across the scar beneath his eye, while her left was slammed aggressively beside his head.

It was messy. His mind couldn't keep up.

He made the mistake of opening his eyes and realized she'd never closed her own. He shut them out of embarrassment, and if her sharp rasp of breath was any indicator, it had only motivated her.

By the end she'd successfully suffocated them both. She pulled away, a stream of spit between their lips, gasping, and drinking him in. The last light of dusk kissed her skin and she was red beyond what any makeup could accomplish.

"How?!" She rasped. "Gosh! How can you say all that with a straight face and actually mean it?!"

She seemed somehow both angry with him and extremely embarrassed by what she had just done. The way she was leaning over him, she showed too much of her cleavage and—Christ! If she could feel the shame he felt for being so turned on, then no wonder she was so flustered. He couldn't tell if this empath thing was the kink he never knew he needed or if it was just straight-up anxiety-inducing. He was leaning toward the second as Laura pushed herself up and hid her face with her hands.

"I'm so sorry, Alex, I…"

"No, that's… I'm the one who's—" Alex's eyes widened in horror. "Your ability! Did my emotions influence you to—"

"No!" Laura shouted. "I mean, a little bit, but that's not! I-I wouldn't have done that if you hadn't just been so… cute."

Cute? Alex had just poured his heart out, and she found it cute?!

That bristled him a little, but he tried not to let it show— oh, of course it showed. Laura scooted farther away from him on the opposite side of the blanket. Alex was at once both thankful and disappointed that she had. "Sorry, your ability makes this a little tricky, but I'll take cute over nothing. Um, thank you for finding me cute."

He scratched the back of his head. "This is probably a stupid question, but you didn't break your vow or anything, right?"

She looked completely ashamed.

"You did?!"

"No! It isn't like that!" Laura exclaimed. "It's…"

She averted her gaze. Then she took a deep breath, corrected her posture, exhaled, and suddenly, the Laura he knew was back—the poised, confident, certain, and collected priestess of the Seven Sisters. Though her hair was a mess.

"Alex," she said seriously, "as you know, this ability of mine has its ups and downs. But one of the most unpleasant parts of it is when someone is interested in me—I can tell. I'm not being coy when I say this, but I'm aware most people find me very attractive. Men often approach me with dirty thoughts or ulterior motives, which I am usually uninterested in pursuing."

"That's… rough," Alex said, unsure where this was headed.

"It is," Laura affirmed. She took a moment before continuing. "Which is why I tell those people I'm celibate."

Alex blinked.

"At first, I thought I was letting you down easy," she said. "Then I realized how wrong that was of me, you deserved a sincere rejection. So I tried to tell you, but you just kept going on and on about…"

She shook her head, as if trying to forget everything he told her. If Alex had the mind to be insulted, he would have been.

"So, where does that leave us?" he asked.

"I… don't know," Laura eventually said. "I'm sorry, Alex. I gave into my… it was… that was just very irresponsible of me, when I can't reciprocate your feelings with the same sincerity. Your words just…" she shook her head. "You made me feel special but it came so out of left field, I mean, even if I know why, you've been nothing but rude to me all week, and just earlier this day we… But… you've been pleasantly enjoyable this afternoon, Alex. And thoughtful. And… I liked it."

Laura looked so embarrassed she could have steam rising off of her. Alex's mind blanked and he attached all his hopes to those three words: I liked it.

He quickly grounded himself. "I don't want you to just give in to the rush of emotions, Laura. My mind's spinning too, and I'm aware that I kind of just love-bombed you, but if you'll marry—sorry, if you'll go out with me, I want ours to be a relationship that can last," Alex said. He grabbed the bouquet of flowers he had dropped and properly offered them to her saying, "Which is why I suggest we go on a date into town tomorrow to give you time to figure it out."

Laura took the flowers shyly and smiled. "I expect you'll have everything planned out?"

"Yes," Alex bravely told her.

Laura's smile was slightly knowing, which concerned him a bit, but he didn't let it show. He felt assured now. His heart no longer raced so rapidly but fluttered to a slightly off-kilter beat. He noticed a loose strand of hair and he leaned in close, tucking it behind her ear and placing a daisy there instead. His hand slid down to cup her cheek and when she touched the flower in surprise, her hand met his, caressing his calloused skin.

"But that's tomorrow," Alex said. "Tonight, let's just do what we feel."

Under a full bed of stars, he leaned in and kissed her.

* * *

Love. It was a simple concept, but to Nychta, a revolutionary one. Love was the feeling used to describe when your heart skipped to the beat of another. It was a feeling where you felt light, as if you might lift into the sky, and also heavy, as if you could sink into the ocean.

It was also what two people made when they were in a bed together, or on a bed of flowers, which Nychta couldn't quite grasp.

But most importantly, love was a decision. It was the decision to say that this person's life was more important than your own; to give them a piece of yourself that lived within them. It could be a powerful decision, one that created light where there was none. But love could also be a dangerous and scary thing. Because if that piece of yourself was killed, it was not simply Unwanting. It was Pain.

Nychta knew Pain all too well and decided she would tell Lionheart "Love" when she was next awake.

But for now, she slumbered—and more than slumber, she dreamed. Today, she dreamed of kisses and love and flowers. But tomorrow… oh, tomorrow she would dream of so much more than that. She would dream of their stroll through that town of colors, of Alex's pride when he showed Laura his smithy, his peace as they played by the shore of those tempestuous waters. And especially of those fateful words they shared in that same meadow of flowers under a clear night sky. She dreamed and dreamed and dreamed of those days until she knew every moment intimately.

But the more Nychta dreamed and the brighter that light began to shine, greater too was the shadow it cast. It was so great and encompassing that Nychta could no longer look upon Laura's face without seeing her fate written there. Without seeing her image tarnished by the inevitable.

A dream is but a dream, and all dreams must eventually come to an end.

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