Page 63 of These Godly Lies
She kisses him. Sweet and soft and forgiving. “It wasn’t on account of not having the time,” she says, brow arching. “I move through the world differently than you do, remember? Things are far better than it was, but I’d still attract all the wrong kinds of attention if I showed up to a public pool in a swimsuit.”
His expression softens, eyes and fingers tracing a pale patch at her shoulder before sliding down to her palm and lacing their fingers. He brings her hand to his lips, kissing the inside of her wrist and leading her farther from the shore. “I won’t let you drown.”
The water rises around her, lapping at her skin. Goosebumps dot her arms, a shiver dancing up her spine when it reaches past her navel. Still, she holds Khiran’s gaze as she follows him deeper; counts the stars-that-aren’t-stars reflecting there. It is only once the water kisses her collar that he stops. His hand slips beneath her hair, cupping her neck, while the other releases her hand to rest on her hip. Water slides down her nape, his fingers cool and patient.
His lips brush over her face, his words a warm murmur against the ridge of her cheek. “Lean back for me, my love.”
It is unnerving at first—the feeling of weightlessness.
Water fills her ears, dampening the sounds of the world above. Khiran’s hand settles, a comforting pressure at the small of her back. His thumb strokes the base of her skull soothingly and Anna relaxes against him. The cave air feels colder than the water now. She can feel it trembling against the exposed skin peeking above the surface. The gentle currents from their movements lap at her sides in a way that almost tickles.
“Take a deep breath and hold it in your lungs.”
She follows his instructions, feeling her body gently rise from his hands until only the gentle assurance of his fingertips remains like an unspoken promise. If she sinks, he will catch her.
“Good girl,” he praises, the words sending a shiver across her skin for reasons that have nothing to do with the cold andeverything to do with the darkness of his gaze. “Control your breathing, just like that. If you ever feel overwhelmed or like you’re sinking—if I’m ever too far to help you stay above the water—just turn your face to the stars and take a breath.”
A laugh, more breath than sound, leaves her. “As if there is a universe where you would not catch me.”
The corner of his mouth curls, a smile so adoring she can feel the warmth of it nestling contentedly beneath her ribs. Nudging against her heart with an almost feline purr of approval. “Best to practice anyway,” he says, eyes dancing. “Are you ready for me to move my hands?”
He’s barely touching her, just a mere graze of fingertips between her shoulder blades. Still, she appreciates him asking. Appreciates that he understands how terrifyingnewcan be to those as old as they are.
She wets her lips out of habit and tastes a drop of water clinging to her upper lip. “I’m ready.”
His touch falls away, leaving her to float on the surface by her power alone. Patiently, he watches her. Waiting for the slightest sign of distress. When moments pass and it doesn’t come, he shows her how to cup her hands and kick her feet. Shows her how to tread water. Soon, she is swimming beside him into deeper waters, her strokes clumsy but effective. Her pulse speeds up, a shallow drumming, but the blood pumping through her heart isn’t encouraged by fear.
Khiran’s smile dimples, his eyes bright as he swims beside her— never too far to save her.
They lay amongst the rocks, letting their hair dry as they admire the way the lights reflect off the water. Anna breathes her question into the dim, afraid to disturb the peace of the moment. “What are they really?”
Khiran chuckles. “Are you sure you’re ready for the magic to end?”
“I’m not sure there is an explanation that would take away the magic,” she confesses, her smile soft as she admires the would-be-constellations. “It’s just a different magic, is all.”
It’s obvious he disagrees. The bridge of his nose wrinkles, voice deadpan. “They’re worms.”
Anna’s smile only widens, eyes tracing the little flecks of light with new appreciation. “How amazing,” she murmurs. “That something so small can shine so brightly.”
He stares at her, his expression one of hope and agony. “You are brighter than this world deserves. Than I deserve.” He shakes his head, leaning over her and pressing a kiss to her forehead with a reverence that aches. “And yet, we both need you.”
She frowns. “Wedeserveeach other.Needeach other,” she reprimands. “As for the world, it needs you far more than it needs me.” Her heart twinges at the truth of it. She wonders how many lives have been condemned because she couldn’t let him go. How many he could have saved if her selfishness hadn’t cost him his freedom.
“You’re wrong,” he whispers. Another kiss, this one placed at the corner of her mouth. “It needs you desperately. You change people, Anna. Inspire them to be better just by being yourself.” His fingertips brush damp hair away from her temple before traveling down, his palm cupping the line of her jaw. “Giving you that peach was the single best thing I’ve ever done for this world.”
Anna’s laugh is breathy and wet, her love for him so heavy she can feel it like a gentle, aching weight on her chest. She folds her hands behind his neck, pulling him closer until their lips brush. “That last part, I think, we can agree on.”
Shadows chase the color from his eyes. “Does it still feel like a gift?”
Anna knows what he’s really asking. Knows his insecurities as well as if they had been inscribed on her own heart. His question isn’t about the magic she’d bit into or the immortal life she’s lived. It’s about the decision made in the garden she cultivated in front ofthe home he gave her. The one they made together after he cradled her face in his hands and begged her for an answer.
What am I to do, Anna?
It’s about the choice she made when she answered,You stay.
Anna kisses him gently, a balm for the tender scars lining both their hearts. She waits until she feels the tension melt from his shoulders, feels the long sigh escape his lungs, before pulling away. She needs him to see her eyes when she tells him. Needs him to know the truth of it so he’ll never carry the weight of his doubt. “It will be a gift for as long as you’re with me.”
Kaia comes out of the shelter of her room two days later.
