Aiden is stiff and silent, staring at the place where Will and Kasey just vanished. His expression is blank, but something is moving in the depths of his blue eyes. Layers and layers of complex emotion. It’s unmissable.

Even if it wasn’t, he’s holding my hand so tightly that my fingers are starting to hurt.

“Aiden,” I say quietly.

His eyes flash to me, very briefly. His thoughts must be seriously scattered. He can normally discern whole worlds of things I’m telling him with only one word, but this time, he misunderstands. He thinks I’m cold, I guess, because he turns and leads us inside, without letting go of my hand.

I know that a little fresh air goes a long way for Aiden, and I feel like we should stay on the porch. But he's already moving, so I let him pull me back into his apartment. All the way to the bedroom, where he stops.

He looks down at our intertwined hands, and seems to realize that his grip is more or less cutting off circulation to my fingers. He winces apologetically. Slowly, reluctantly, he lets me go.

“I’m sorry,” he says, running a hand over his face. “I’m - just-”

Afraid of the truth that we’ve discovered.

He doesn’t say it, but it doesn’t need saying. It’s encoded in Aiden's eyes, in the way he can hardly look at me.

“Aiden,” I begin again.

At the sound of my voice, he turns away from me. He takes a soft, shuddering breath, covers his face with his hands, then drops them.

Nervously twisting the ring around my finger, I watch as Aiden crosses directly to the window, open to the trees beyond. He puts his palms on the sill and leans into them, trying to get a full breath. My heart twists painfully, and I move without thinking. I go to him, rest a hand on his back. We should have stayed outside, after all. Aiden’s breathing is so shallow, like his lungs won’t let him have what he needs.

He’s in desperate need of oxygen. Not even getting enough to make it back to the door, apparently. Without warning, he shoves the window all the way open and hops up onto the sill.

I blink in surprise, not sure what's going on. Aiden leans out, takes a look at the nearest tree branches. They’re covered with clear coats of ice and powdery layers of frost, but his heat is already thawing everything.

Aiden gets a firm grip on one of the branches and steps gracefully out into the tree. He balances himself on the thickest branch, then reaches for me. I take his hand, let myself be pulled out into the night, drawn up into the canopy.

It’s an old, sturdy tree, the branch easily big enough for both of us to fit. I would worry that a man built like Aiden might test the strength of this thing - but he would hear it, if we were going to fall.

We sit there together, on the branch, in the moonlight. Aiden doesn’t say a word. The color of his eyes has turned deeper, more marine.

My heart sinks, seeing him like this. Will’s story has obviously unleashed a flood of anxiety for Aiden. And… I’ve seen this look on his face before. He’s really wishing he could have a drink.

He told me to just be there for him when this happens, so I don’t comment. Instead, I snuggle against Aiden's side. He doesn’t move to put his arm around me, which makes it difficult. It’s getting in my way, but he’s too far in his thoughts to notice.

I poke his bicep, to no reaction. I poke it again, harder. No response.

So I bend awkwardly and sort of force my head between Aiden’s arm and his side, jam myself in there like some kind of burrowing animal until he has to lift his arm. The moment he does, I slip into the now-open space, and cuddle up against him properly.

This move startles a little huff of laughter from him. He shakes his head at me, but winds his arm around my shoulders.

“Cool, there we go.” I dust my hands off, then tuck my head beneath Aiden’s chin. “That’s better.”

“Goddamnit, Jamie. I’m trying to think.”

“You think too much. Knock it off, already.”

“Oh, okay.” Aiden taps his forefinger to his temple, like he can’t believe he didn’t think of it himself. “Sure, yeah, sounds great. Got any suggestions for how to do that?”

“Well, my original plan was to kiss you very aggressively, to distract you. But now I feel like I should hold off on that, so I don’t knock us both out of a tree and into a two-story freefall. Or - you know what? I’ll just do it, anyways. Whatever.” I straighten up and take Aiden’s jaw in my hand, start leaning in towards him. “C’mere, Callahan.”

“Stop it,” he laughs, then looks surprised when he hears the huff of it.

I smile at him, and Aiden smiles back, but there’s such an ache in his eyes. I can’t miss it, and he knows that.

“Oh, babe,” I say softly, as he quickly turns his face away from me again. I rest my head on his shoulder, gather his hand into mine.

I can’t believe that I ever used to think of Aiden as apathetic. He cares about things. He cares deeply.

“Do you get it, now?” His voice is hoarse, rough around the edges. “Do you see why I’m always worried about you?”

I can feel the racing of his pulse against my fingertips.

“I already understood.” I turn my head, kiss Aiden's shoulder. “This may come as a surprise, I guess, but I’m always worried about you, too. It’s like you said. I love you, so I can’t help it.”

Aiden looks at me, biting the inside of his cheek. He puts his forehead to mine, and his breath starts to steady out, just a little.

“He still loves her,” I murmur, after a moment. “Will. He still loves Ariana. I can tell. Bet you can, too.”

Aiden nods. “Yeah, I can tell.”

“And it’s been more than two hundred years. Two hundred years, and most of those years spent completely without her - and still, he doesn’t love her any less. Can you believe that?”

“Yes.” Aiden hesitates, his eyes lingering on my face. “That part, I - I actually understand.”

I freeze, staring at him, my heart stumbling wildly. I open my mouth to answer, but Aiden clears his throat and hastily faces forward again. Adjusts his snapback, with the hand that isn’t resting on me.

“An earthquake, of all fucking things,” he says, looking up at the night sky. “So Will was just - in the wrong place, at the wrong time.”

“You know what? I honestly don’t think that anything short of an earthquake could have stopped Ariana from saving Will.”

“That’s probably true.” Aiden lets out a pained groan, tipping his head back. “Man, she nearly did save him, even with the forest falling down around her, the ground moving beneath her feet, the river boiling over... I mean, she ran headfirst into a fucking apocalypse, for him. Without thinking twice.”

I squeeze Aiden’s fingers.

“That part, I actually understand,” I say softly, giving his words back to him.

He looks sharply at me.

A slow smile breaks over his face, crinkling up the corners of his eyes. He tips towards me, presses his nose to mine.

“Nice to see you smiling again,” I tell him, my words muffled by his kisses. “Did you do it? Did you not think?”

Aiden gives my lip a gentle nibble. “You better not have said that just to make me not think, dude.”

“You know I didn’t,” I answer, stroking his jaw with my fingertips.

“Mkay, because I’m really mad at you, if you did.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” I laugh, as Aiden kisses my cheek, then my nose, then my forehead. Quick little kisses, fluttery and sweet. “You seem furious. I’m terrified.”

Aiden draws back, and I look at him as he is: framed against the deep indigo of the night sky, the dark leaves of the tree, the glimmer of the stars. The way he’s biting his lip, looking at me, his eyes talking to me in their dream language. His chestnut hair suffused with moonlight, his fingers very lightly touching my knee.

Yeah. I’d look the apocalypse right in the eye for this man. No doubt.

“Jamie,” he says, suddenly serious again. “Sometimes-”

He cuts himself off, scrubbing a frustrated hand over his jaw, and starts again.

“Sometimes it’s hard for me to tell you everything I’m thinking. Things get lost on their way out, before they can get to you - and what I say is a really, um - small version of what's in here.” Aiden puts a hand to his chest, over his heart. “But - the way I feel about you, I just - I don't know if you realize what losing you like that would do to me."

The expression on Aiden’s face is doing something to me, right now. My chest hurts, and now I’m the one holding his hand too tightly.

I actually do understand, more than he knows. This thing in my heart that came to life when he came back to Ketterbridge - it’s immense, long-enduring, there at the very center of myself. Life tastes different with Aiden around, and I literally can’t give him up. Everything would be so cold and dark, without my Heliomancer.

I finally manage to perfectly channel that firm, inarguable voice that he does so well.

“Aiden. That is not going to happen to us.”

He looks right into my eyes. “Promise me."

“I promise.”

Aiden releases a held breath, and kisses my temple.

The wind rustles the dry leaves around us, sending up a whispering song. Aiden rests his head on my shoulder. The moonlight spills down onto the icy landscape and becomes snowlight, a soft halo fuzzing the air around everything we see.

Part of me worries that I just promised Aiden something that I don't have any control over. But something tells me that’s not the case. There’s a certainty in my heart, stronger than any arguments my mind has against it.

Aiden and I have already spent our time apart. We’re not doing that ever again. I’m not going to let anything, anything pull us away from each other. From here on out, it’s me and him, together. For as long as he’s willing to put up with me, anyways.

I bury my nose into Aiden’s chestnut hair, take a deep inhale of vetiver, of him.

“I promise,” I say again.

I can’t see his expression from this angle, but I hear him let out another quiet breath.

“I promise, too,” he answers.

I wasn’t expecting that. It’s kind of a huge thing for Aiden to promise, knowing how much he worries about me slipping through his fingers, being taken from him. But he said it, and we’re on equal footing, now. Equally responsible for keeping the promise.

I press a kiss onto the top of his head, my heart overwhelmed. No one makes me feel the way that Aiden does. It’s all still so new to me, and it takes my breath away.

Loving him is exploring a beautiful, hidden forest. All new trees, all new animals, all new flowers.

~~~~

Aiden falls asleep with his head on my chest, the comforters pulled over both of us. For a long time, I lay awake, toasty in his warmth, gently working my fingers through his hair.

I’m lost in my thoughts, drowsy though they may be.

I already know what it means to be a Guardian, but hearing firsthand what happened to Will, to Ariana…

Everyone worries about the people they love, but Aiden is a Guardian. His life is a constant battle against misfortune, which means that he sees it all the time. No wonder his sweet blue eyes fill up with anxiety so easily. No wonder he was holding onto me so tightly by the time Will finished his story. What a weight, this thing that Aiden has to bear. And it’s refracted a million times over, every time he lets himself love someone.

I wish that Aiden didn’t have to carry this. I wish that I could take some of it from him.

It’s okay, I want to tell him. You don’t have to take every blow. Today, let me care. Today, it’s my burden. Today I just want you to laugh, and relax, I want everything to be effortless and easy for you.

I want to be his source of peace and strength. To give him a place to feel completely safe and secure, the way I feel when I'm taken up in his huge, warm arms. I want to be there for him, always.

My hand drifts from Aiden’s hair to his face. I smooth my palm over his scruffy jaw. He slept over at my apartment a few nights in a row, so he hasn’t been shaving, and he’s already got a beard coming in. He can leave some clothes at my place, but he doesn’t have two razors.

I guess I should have sent him home at least one of those nights, but. Honestly, I didn’t want to. Companion Plants should grow next to each other, right? Besides, the beard looks kind of - extremely good on him. I definitely don’t hate it. I’m actually having trouble keeping my hands off of it.

And now I really don’t want to go a night without Aiden, not after what Will told us. I want to savor all of the little things. Aiden’s sleepy voice in the morning, the weight of his head on my chest when he passes out like this. His slow, quiet breathing at night. Small joys, the full importance of which has just broken over my head.

I find myself imagining a place that Aiden and I could share together. What would that look like, a home for both of us?

I usually picture something small and colorful for myself, but there’ll need to be some space and height, for a guy Aiden’s size. He’s always bumping his head on the attic ceilings up here.

And we’ll need a lot of windows, obviously. I picture big studio windows, all of which can open. I like to envision the sun pouring in through them, but it’s okay if it doesn’t. I have a Heliomancer, an endless source of light.

There should probably be a porch, too. We already spend so much time hanging out on Aiden’s porch here. It would be somewhere for us to sit when Aiden needs air, and the windows aren’t doing it. A place where we can see the trees.

We could have breakfast in bed, sit together by the fire, get cozy. Counter every painful moment with a warm one. Balance. A place away from Aiden’s perpetual struggle against the crush of the world. Joy in every little detail. I won’t let the difficult parts of being a Guardian devour Aiden, like they did with his mom. I won’t. It’s not happening.

I’ll get him a new book of poetry for his birthday every year, until we fill up a whole room with them. His aunt has pretty Persian tiles around her fireplace - would Aiden like that in our place, too? Would that make it feel more like home?

I smile drowsily to myself as the dream grows in my mind. I remember that time when Aiden was practicing trying to turn a jar with magic, but he accidentally filled it up with sunlight.

I feel like that, at the thought of a home for us. Warm, glowing from the inside out.

I look down at Aiden’s sleeping face, wondering if I should say something to him about this. Has he thought about it, too? Should I ask him?

But I’m so bad at this kind of serious conversation. The idea of taking this up with Aiden sends an immediate shower of nerves through me, makes my cheeks burn.

Oh, god. I think I’m too nervous to do it, actually. I’ve never done it before, never even thought about it before. My heart is starting to race just imagining how that conversation would go.

Aiden, who still has his head on my chest, either feels it, hears it, or both. He stirs against me, takes in a heavy, sleepy breath.

“Jamie?” he murmurs, only half awake.

“I’m okay.” I bend to kiss his forehead. “Go back to sleep.”

He settles himself more snugly onto me, and does.

Yeah, that conversation is going to have to wait a little longer. I need to build up some bravery, first.

It’s alright, though. As long as I can hear Aiden’s voice, I’m already home, anyways.