"I have excellent hearing." Her fingers traced patterns on my chest, each deliberate touch sending warmth through my exhausted body. "She also told me to keep you alive."
"Everyone's very concerned about my mortality rate."
"Because you keep almost dying."
"Occupational hazard."
She was quiet for a moment. Her hand stilled against my skin.
Then: "I meant what I said. To your mother."
"I know."
"Do you?" Her voice carried an edge now, sharper than before.
I turned my head to look at her properly.
Her purple eyes glowed faintly in the darkness, the light not quite natural. More ethereal.
White streaks catching the moonlight filtering through the window.
Beautiful in a way that still caught me off guard sometimes.
"Yeah," I said. "I do."
