Aiden and I sit cross-legged on my bed, facing each other.

“Okay, ready?” I ask, holding up my hands.

Aiden holds his out in the same way, blue eyes focused on my fingers. I turn my right hand, twice to the left. Aiden mimics the movement.

“Ariana moved a little quicker than that, though. And not such a far turn. Here, like this.”

I reach out and weave my fingers through his, so I can show him what I mean.

His hands are impossibly soft, but I know from experience that his lips are even softer.

Oh, god. Now I’m thinking about Aiden’s mouth, and the press of it against mine, and definitely not about - whatever it was we were just doing. Honestly, what were we just doing?

Aiden’s gaze flicks from our hands to my face. I don’t know how something as simple as this sparks so much heat and electricity within me, but it does.

I duck my chin, trying to hide the rising blush in my cheeks. Let some of my hair fall forward, so he can’t see my expression. What's wrong with me? This is embarrassing. We’re just holding hands, and barely that. Our fingers are laced together as loosely as they could possibly be.

I know that he’s still watching me closely. I can feel it.

“Um.” I hear what’s happening to my voice and quickly clear my throat, trying to calm down. “So - then you - you-”

I look up, and Aiden suddenly tips forward, catching my lips with his. My hands fly up to cup the sides of his face. The familiar roughness of his stubble tickles my palms.

His momentum sends me falling onto my back. I make sure to drag him down with me. His fingers curl around the back of my neck, his thumb sliding up the length of my jaw. He glides his tongue over my bottom lip, then slips it into my mouth.

Sometimes Aiden kisses me gently and slowly, but sometimes, like now, there’s this wild urgency. Hurried, hard, breathless kisses, like he needs to fit them all in right now, like someone is going to pull me out of his arms at any moment. It lights some kind of reactive fire within me, makes me kiss him back the same way.

I remember this one time in high school, when Aiden had said something mean and gotten me worked up.

“Maybe I’ll transfer schools!” I’d told him, all tearful and angry. “Then you’ll have to find a new victim, Callahan! How about that?”

“So do it,” he’d answered, looking right over my head, like I wasn’t even there. “No one gives a shit if you go or stay.”

How strange, to have the same person holding me like this. Like letting me go is unthinkable.

Aiden pulls back, out of breath. He gazes down at me, his pupils huge and his eyes glimmering.

“What do you taste like?” He smooths a thumb over my parted lips, then pushes a kiss into the corner of my mouth. “It’s nice.”

“Um…” I struggle to think back. “Probably the brown sugar bubble tea I’m just now realizing I forgot in my car?”

Aiden huffs out a laugh, shaking his head.

“You and the sweet stuff. Rum fruit smoothies in Miami, brown sugar bubble tea in your car-”

“And Aiden Callahan, everywhere else?” I finish for him.

He pauses, a surprisingly shy smile blossoming on his face.

Yep, there it is, I think. The sweetest thing in the world.

It occurs to me to say something about how we’re supposed to be practicing for the locket, but then Aiden dips his head and flattens his tongue on my larynx, profoundly obliterating any remaining coherent thoughts in my head. One of my hands curls around his bicep, the other pushing into his hair - but I immediately let go and reach for the drawstring of his sweatpants, fumbling to get it undone.

“Slow down, little demon,” he murmurs, his breath warm against my skin. “We’ve got all night.”

“We’re actually supposed to-” I hiss through clenched teeth as he gets back to work on my throat. “Be - practicing - all night-”

“Who’s gonna know if we don’t?” he teases, skimming his hand down my stomach. His fingers slip beneath the waistband of my pajama pants, my boxers. His voice is dropping to that low rumble that seems to vibrate my whole body.

Now that I’ve said it out loud, it’s popping into my head all the time.

Aiden, I love you.

He stops abruptly and draws back, his expression troubled. For one insane moment, I think he must have heard me. Did I think it so hard that I actually said it out loud, without realizing?

“Or - is that bad?” Aiden asks, a thoughtful frown on his face. “Should we practice? I already feel bad that Kasey and Will have to sit around waiting for me to get this down.”

He really looks like he means it, too. The concern in his blue eyes is obvious. Here he is, stopping in the middle of a moment like this, to worry about Kasey and Will.

Yeah, I really love you.

“Well, we can still practice, right?” I answer. “There’s nothing wrong with taking a little break. Just like a half-hour break.”

I swirl my fingers in small, tight circles on Aiden’s sternum while I talk, then lean up to kiss the gentle dip at the base of his throat. He closes his eyes for a moment, swallowing.

“No, I guess not. Or we could do a forty-five minute break.” He looks down at me again, and reconsiders. “Um… let’s actually say an hour. Hour and a half.”

I laugh, and something fiery sparks behind Aiden’s eyes. He moves swiftly and rolls us over, lifting me to sit on top of him. Now he’s the one reaching for the drawstring on my pants, but where I was scrambly and rushing, he is not. He gives it one hard tug, undoing it with that single movement.

I bend to kiss him, but when our faces come close together, he takes my jaw in one hand and turns my head. He puts his mouth to my ear and starts to whisper things, in that low, husky voice. Things that make my heart pound even harder. Things that deepen the blush in my cheeks and send goosebumps rippling down my arms.

Does he know what he’s doing to me, right now?

I think he does. He understands me better than anybody else. My friends and family know me pretty well - Kasey in particular, of course - but Aiden is something different. It’s like he’s right at home in my inner landscape, so he doesn’t need a map to navigate it. His soul belongs there, just as much as mine.

Does Aiden feel the same way? Like I belong in his, too?

I think I’m seeing clues.

Sometimes he’ll reach for me before he even wakes up from his nightmares. Sometimes he’ll stop in the middle of a conversation and tip his head to the side. Listening in the way that only he can, smiling like he knows some amazing secret.

There’s also the way he grins when he makes me laugh, like it’s some kind of triumph for him, even though it’s happened a billion times.

And when we do what we’re doing right now… the explosions have stopped, yes, but sometimes things still float into the air, lifting high up over everything.

That’s how I feel, when I’m with him. Weightless, on a cloud of perfect comfort and closeness. No wonder I can’t stop thinking about how much I love him.

I pull back, looking down at him, everything I’m feeling held in my eyes. He gazes up at me, and another sweet smile takes over his face.

“Sometimes,” he blurts out suddenly, “I still can’t - believe-”

He breaks off, biting his lip. I wait, but he doesn’t finish his thought, and I know better than to try and make him. With Aiden, patience always pays off.

Later, I sprawl out with my head on his chest, drowsy and content. Heliocentrism is right. Cuddling with Aiden after we do this, it feels like… crawling freshly-showered into cool sheets, after a long, happy day in the sun. It’s that same kind of satisfied sleepiness. Sun exhaustion, but in the best way.

We have our connection open, for no particular reason. I think we just want to listen to each other. We didn’t talk about it, but we must have been on the same page, because he can’t open it without my permission.

Eventually, I feel Aiden shift very slightly, and open my eyes to see what he's doing.

He has one arm around me, his fingers buried in my hair. He’s moving his unoccupied hand in slow, deliberate circles, as if he’s trying to stretch out his wrist. His eyes are glittering with white-blue light.

I follow his gaze to my ceiling fan. It’s turned off, but it’s spinning in slow circles, in tandem with Aiden’s movements.

He’s practicing turning things.

I thought he'd forgotten about that - honestly, I forgot about it, myself. But now that we’ve both calmed down, he’s back to thinking about it. Thinking about Kasey, and Will, and probably about what helping them means to me. Thinking about others.

I love you, I think again, and close my eyes, serene in the safe haven of his arms.

~~~~

City Hall is bustling today. It’s just after lunch, and the halls are crowded with people heading back to their offices.

I’m running late. I lost track of time at the shop, working on the little animals for the window display.

“Hey, Ripples!” I say brightly, stepping into the waiting area. He looks up from his sketchbook and waves.

“Hey, man. Gabby said you should go right in.”

I knock on her office door, then let myself in.

There’s a man in a suit occupying the chair before the desk, a scowl on his face. Gabby, on the other hand, seems perfectly calm. She’s tearing open a packet of sweetener, pouring it out into her coffee. She gestures for me to stay, so I shut the door after myself.

“See, Brian?” Gabby points at me, and Brian throws a cursory glance in my direction. “We’ve been talking about this for so long that my other appointments are showing up.”

“Listen,” he says earnestly, “I know that I’m right. I’m telling you, night would be better. We can have the trees down before anyone’s the wiser.”

“Sorry, what’s going on?” I ask, alarmed.

I normally wouldn’t interrupt Gabby’s meeting, but hearing about tree-cutting instantly sends my anxious mind to the Guardian Tree.

“We’re discussing those trees by the school,” Gabby says, to my instant relief. “Brian here seems to think it would be a good idea-”

“Of course it would!” he cuts in. “That so-called ‘activism’ - I want to call it vandalism, frankly - it’s caused us enough headaches. There’s too much attention on this project already. That goddamned petition actually got a healthy number of signatures, and my team is worried there might be protestors. We should cut at night. No protestors, no attention, keep it clean. People won’t have to find out until it’s over.”

“And you think that people would be less upset about the project if we did it that way?” Gabby takes a sip of her coffee, watching him. “If they woke up to find that we’d acted in the middle of the night, cut down the trees while they slept?”

“Well - if you put it like that!”

Gabby lifts an eyebrow. “Is that not what we would be doing?”

Brian sighs deeply, slumping back in his seat. “Gabby…”

“It looks sneaky,” she tells him. “Underhanded. It won’t win you any sympathy from the public.”

“All I’m trying to do is keep my crews safe,” he groans. “This isn’t fair to them.”

“Oh, come on.” Gabby clicks her tongue. “Even if protestors do come, your crews will be fine. If anything, it’ll be an unpleasant day of work for them. We all have to deal with days like that.”

“They’re only trying to get a paycheck,” Brian grumbles. “Feed their kids.”

“No one’s arguing that fact,” Gabby says firmly. “They’re my employees, too. I wouldn’t send them out there if I thought it was something they couldn’t handle. And I wouldn’t ask you to do it, either.” She sets down her coffee, then steeples her fingers. “However. If people do want to protest, that’s their right. It’s protected by the First Amendment, and I will not have the city government doing anything to subvert that, even indirectly. You understand? Not while I’m in charge.”

Brian sighs again, rubbing his forehead.

“Fine. But if anyone gets hurt, I’m coming back here for an I-told-you-so.”

Gabby cracks a smile.

“That’s fair. Now, I’m late for my meeting with Jamie, and I have another meeting after that, a very important one that I refuse to reschedule. So.”

She gestures to the door.

Brian gets to his feet, mumbles a quick apology at me, and goes to leave.

“Oh, Brian,” Gabby calls, and he pauses. “I hope I’ll still see you at the poker game on Wednesday night? Neil from Transportation said that you offered to buy the first round of drinks.”

“Neil said that!” scoffs Brian. “As if he doesn’t owe everyone in this building a round of drinks!”

“So you’ll come?” Gabby asks, and he blows out a breath.

“Yes, but you can tell Neil-”

“Brian!” Gabby laughs. “Enough! I have another meeting! Goodbye, honestly!”

He heads out. I watch him go, then turn to find Gabby reaching for her coffee.

“Wow,” I say. “He looks way less mad than he did when I came in. Can I call you when we have pissed off customers at the flower shop?”

“Does that happen often?”

“Well, you know. Sometimes people will like, sit on the bouquet they bought and then think that entitles them to a refund.”

Gabby laughs again, shaking her head.

“Of course. Well, yes, I generally prefer that people leave my office less aggrieved than when they came in, so I make the time. Although - shit. That took too long. My next meeting is going to arrive in…” She checks her watch. “Three minutes.”

“Oh. Guess we’ll have to reschedule your update on the exhibition progress?”

“No need,” Gabby says, with a dismissive flick of her hand. “Just make it fast. If anyone can do that, it’s you, Jamie. I know how much talking you’re capable of cramming into three minutes.”

“Hey!” I protest.

But she’s right, and I actually do manage to compress most of the update into the three minutes of time she has for me.

“So now that it’s all cleaned up,” I finish, “Noah and Raj are gonna start the repairs.”

“Good.” Gabby gives me an approving nod. “Sounds like we’re on track. Nice summation.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t want to make you late for your next meeting. Didn’t you say it’s important?”

“It is. Very important.”

Ripley knocks on the door, then opens it and leans into the office. “Your next appointment is here, Gabby.”

“Oh, excellent, send her in.”

I blink in surprise as Ellen darts around Ripley’s legs, a grin on her little face.

“Gabby!” she chirps, and Gabby smiles warmly, reaching for her. Ellen rushes over for a hug.

“Hello, princesa! You ready to get some ice cream, do some shopping?”

“Yes! Dad said I can buy something. He gave me ten dollars! Of money!”

“Ten dollars!” Gabby looks extremely impressed. “Wow, what should we do with all that?”

“I want to get sunglasses,” Ellen says excitedly. “Like yours.”

Gabby reaches into her purse and extracts a bright red pair of cat-eye sunglasses. She puts them on her face, then strikes a pose.

“Yes!” Ellen tucks her clasped hands beneath her chin, staring up at her. “Like those!”

It makes me happy to see how much Ellen clearly adores Gabby. She clings to her hand the whole walk down the hallway, chattering about which flavor of ice cream she wants.

I also feel like spending time with someone I love, so I part ways with them at the doors, and head down to the archives.