Page 82 of The Muse (Beautiful Magic 1)
He nods crisply. “Right, of course. I’m on it.”
She smiles her thanks at him, and then she asks me, “Then my work here is done?” But what she’s really saying is farewell.
“It is.” I clasp her in a tight embrace and then let her go on her way.
When she’s gone, I’m left with Julien. I’m excited and nervous. As a Muse, I didn’t have to worry about what happened next, because it was always the same. Here, I don’t know what to expect. I don’t know anything about how the world works without my shackles.
But I want to find out. My God, I can’t wait to find out.
Julien takes my hand, brushing his thumb over my bare wrist. “How did it work? She took them off, just like that?”
“Just like that,” I confirm, smiling with delight at his touch. With delight at being here with him. “Took them off and put them on her own wrists.”
“So, all the paintings you inspired? They’ll be okay?”
I nod. “Thalia will hold them up now. She’s taken over my duty, and now here I am. Look . . .” I flick my fingers—no silver dust comes out.
Only one thing could make me happier in this moment, and that’s to tell him everything this means. I’m here to stay. No magic in the world can make me fall out of love with him again.
“Julien, will you have me back?” I reach for his hand and hold it between mine. “I want to be in your life because you are in my heart. I’m back for good because I’m in love with you.”
“You are?” His face lights with happiness.
“I am. I feel it all. Everything I ever felt for you, only bigger and brighter.” I trace a jagged line across his palm and whisper, “Sing in me, Muse, and through me tell the story. Of a new way back to you.”
My heart is full to bursting, and Julien looks the same.
“Really? You really . . .?”
I take his other hand and tug him closer. “I feel like I’m dancing at the Moulin Rouge, like I’m on the beach in the South of France, like I’m floating under a starry night. I want to spend all my days with you.”
My voice breaks as I’m overcome. I am overwhelmed with all I want becoming real. I am overjoyed that I’m here with him, on the other side, and he holds my face, brushes the hair from my cheek, and presses a soft kiss to my lips.
Oh, have I missed this and yet it’s fresh and new.
It feels like a first kiss, and a promise.
It feels like all the starry nights and all the sunlit days I want to spend with him.
And then it turns deeper, longer, and we don’t stop.
Because in our kiss, I can taste forever. A forever that’s real, here in Paris together, Julien and me.
We break the kiss, and I’m laughing with happiness, and so is he. We kiss through our laughter, and when we pull apart again, I cup his cheeks and say, “I feel so much. But more than anything, I feel like a woman in love with a man.”
And it feels like freedom. I’m free from the chains that bound me for centuries. Free from the only life I’ve ever known.
I’m free to forge a whole new one with this man. One full of love.
“And I’m still insanely in love with you,” he says.
“Good. I was worried.”
He scoffs like that’s absurd. “Why would you worry about that?”
“Because once I started to feel love again, I felt how much I missed you. How painful it was to be parted. All I wanted was to make my way back to you.” I squeeze him tight. “That’s still all I want—just you, Julien.”
“You have me,” he says. “You don’t have to question that at all.”
He runs his thumbs along my naked wrists.
“You look so good without bracelets,” he says, his eyes traveling lovingly over my face. “You look so good in the daylight.”
I am so glad that anyone can see us now as we kiss on the bridge over the river outside the Louvre. Anyone can see us now, but no one pays attention, because this is Paris. We’re just another pair of young lovers becoming another set of ornaments in this city.
We are not darting in and out of paintings after midnight. We do what anyone can do.
And today, we spend the morning kissing and strolling, but eventually, we have to speak of practical matters.
“So what do we do now?” Julien asks. “What do you want to do? Where are you going to live?”
“I don’t know,” I say with a laugh. “I haven’t thought that far.”
He raises a playful brow. “I have room. It’s a little flat—”
“Yes!” The word bursts from me. I won’t let that chance pass me by. “Yes. Yes. Yes. I want that.”
