In Which Yvanette Has a Moment of Weakness

July 7, 1196

"Do you love me?"

Sevvie exhaled, not even turning his head. It should have been a startling question. Her entrance, Yvanette could chalk up to being mistaken for one of his housemates, who came and went as they pleased--but her voice might have merited some reaction of surprise, at least a quick twitch of the shoulders.

Instead, he was slow and deliberate, as if he'd sensed her approach from the minute she'd left her own house. Hands to the table, he pushed back his chair with the weight of his body and drew himself to his feet. "Yes."

Within her chest, Yvanette's heart twinged. Contrary to him, she was in enough of a shock even with Adonis and Alina's slip-ups. "Why?"

Sevvie turned around and stepped toward her, his frown curling his lower lip inward. "Do you need a reason?"

Considering that the not-unfounded consensus of the rest of the young men their age was that Yvanette was an emotionally unstable recluse, a reason might have helped. "Don't you? Is it that I'm broken and you think you can fix me? Or that I'm wild and you think you can tame me?"

"You're not broken or wild, and I wouldn't wish to fix or tame you even if I thought you needed either."

"Then what is it?"

"It's... difficult to put to words." But his eyelids slipped, as they always did when he was thinking. He would, at least, try. "You have this... spirit about you, I guess. A light and shadow spirit. You warm me, you lead me, you follow me. Your light makes the world better, and your dark makes me want to be better. And all the greys in between play my heartstrings like a lute. And every time you look at me, all I want to do is rearrange the stars to spell your name and then make it night forever."

She blinked. She wasn't sure what to say to that, if there was anything to say to that. Even she even knew what the hell he'd just said. "You know I'll end up wanting to stay home and making you go places by yourself."

"I don't mind."

"And you know I probably won't get along with all of your friends and their wives."

"That's all right."

"And I don't know if I'll ever be able to go nine months without transforming, so I probably shouldn't get pregnant."

"I don't care."

"But you will. And it's not." She fought a sigh and triumphed with a choke. "And you will."

Sevvie shook his head. "All I need to be happy is for you to be happy."

"I don't want to trap you."

"How can you trap me when you give my heart wings?"

Yvanette's eyes quivered as he grazed a finger along her jaw. Every nerve in her body ached to cling to him, never let him go, drag him down to the chapel and marry him before he found he didn't feel all those pretty things after all. But she couldn't do that. She couldn't do that. When he figured that out for himself, he had to be free to go.

"You deserve--"

"No." His fingertip touched her lips, and his nose followed to hers. "It isn't love when it's deserved or earned or reward. Love must be given freely. If I don't have yours, then tell me, and I'll leave you alone until our friendship can heal, and we won't speak of it again--but never give in to someone you don't love just because he deserves it. Never settle for less than love because you think you don't deserve the real thing."

The right thing to do would have been to pull away. To end this, to leave him, to let his wounds turn to scars turn to flesh renewed.

But right and wrong never held much sway in a moment of weakness.

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