gently over his Sight like spring rain. She put the plate down on the table and then turned, sitting herself on Twist's knee, and took off her gloves. She gave Twist another cookie and smiled as he ate it.
“Are the cookies too sweet?” she asked while she toyed with the soft black curls behind his ear, sending tiny, delicious shivers over his skin. “I got the recipe from a lady in the shop and she said they wouldn't be. I asked Niko to test them for me, but really I just had to guess.”
Twist tried desperately to find a response for her, but only one thought found its way to his lips. “Why are you so good to me? I'm boring and awkward, and I don't know anything. I'm certainly not handsome. I'm just a dull, short, clockmaker from London. I've never done anything in my life that could make me worthy of your most fleeting attention, let alone...”
He waved a hand at the bliss and cookies surrounding him. Myra stared at him as if he'd suddenly started talking about space aliens. She shook her head and put her hands around the back of his neck, resting her arms on his shoulders.
“What are you talking about?” she asked him with a smile. “You're none of those things. I think you're wonderful. Now, do you like the cookies or not?” she asked, her glittering blue eyes warning now.
“Your cookies couldn't be more perfect,” Twist said, with all the honesty in his soul. “And if you were any sweeter to me I'd surely melt into the carpet.”
“Good,” she said, grinning proudly again as her delight rippled, like sunlight on water, over his Sight. “Have another,” she said, picking up a cookie. “How was your meeting?” she asked, full of innocence and curiosity.
Twist suddenly realized that Tasha hadn't said anything. He could definitely hear her speaking softly with Niko in the other room. She'd had plenty of time. Twist's memories of his evening felt sharp and cold in the warm haze of Myra's presence. He took another bite of his fantastic cookie to wash it away.
“Jonas was right,” he said, trying not to let the whole truth show on his face. “It wasn't very fun at all. I don't want to go to anything like that again.”
“Oh, what a shame,” Myra said, looking disappointed.
“How was your night?” Twist asked, looping his arms around her waist. “I want to hear all about it. I missed you.”
“Really?” Myra asked, smiling bashfully as a jolt of joy ran over her thoughts. “Oh, I didn't do anything interesting. I just packed a little, and made you cookies. There's more in the kitchen. I thought it might be a nice snack for the trip tomorrow.”
“Thank you,” Twist said, from the deepest depths of his heart. “You're so thoughtful.”
“You are nice to think about,” she said, petting at his hair gently. Something in her eyes—a subtle darkness, a flash of fire—made Twist's heart leap into a higher speed.
Tasha's laugh sounded from the open doorway as she and Niko entered the room, talking happily in Serbian. Tasha stopped short when her eyes fell on Twist and Myra and her face washed over with surprise.
“Sorry,” she said, a smile blooming now. “I didn't know you were... Excuse us,” she said, already pushing Niko back into the other room.
“Wait, what? No, it's not...” Twist tried to say something coherent, but his words still felt like they were a bit jumbled. Myra pulled back from him slightly, sitting up straighter with her hands on his shoulders now.
“You're sure?” Tasha asked hesitantly.
“Here, try a cookie,” Myra said, picking up the plate and offering it to Tasha with a smile.
“Thank you,” Niko said, stepping around her to take one. He took a bite of it with a deeply pleased tone and gave Twist a jealous look. “You know you don't deserve her, right?” he asked darkly, with a nod at Myra. Myra gave a tsk .
“I keep trying to tell her, but she just won't listen to me,” Twist said
“Are the cookies too sweet?” she asked while she toyed with the soft black curls behind his ear, sending tiny, delicious shivers over his skin. “I got the recipe from a lady in the shop and she said they wouldn't be. I asked Niko to test them for me, but really I just had to guess.”
Twist tried desperately to find a response for her, but only one thought found its way to his lips. “Why are you so good to me? I'm boring and awkward, and I don't know anything. I'm certainly not handsome. I'm just a dull, short, clockmaker from London. I've never done anything in my life that could make me worthy of your most fleeting attention, let alone...”
He waved a hand at the bliss and cookies surrounding him. Myra stared at him as if he'd suddenly started talking about space aliens. She shook her head and put her hands around the back of his neck, resting her arms on his shoulders.
“What are you talking about?” she asked him with a smile. “You're none of those things. I think you're wonderful. Now, do you like the cookies or not?” she asked, her glittering blue eyes warning now.
“Your cookies couldn't be more perfect,” Twist said, with all the honesty in his soul. “And if you were any sweeter to me I'd surely melt into the carpet.”
“Good,” she said, grinning proudly again as her delight rippled, like sunlight on water, over his Sight. “Have another,” she said, picking up a cookie. “How was your meeting?” she asked, full of innocence and curiosity.
Twist suddenly realized that Tasha hadn't said anything. He could definitely hear her speaking softly with Niko in the other room. She'd had plenty of time. Twist's memories of his evening felt sharp and cold in the warm haze of Myra's presence. He took another bite of his fantastic cookie to wash it away.
“Jonas was right,” he said, trying not to let the whole truth show on his face. “It wasn't very fun at all. I don't want to go to anything like that again.”
“Oh, what a shame,” Myra said, looking disappointed.
“How was your night?” Twist asked, looping his arms around her waist. “I want to hear all about it. I missed you.”
“Really?” Myra asked, smiling bashfully as a jolt of joy ran over her thoughts. “Oh, I didn't do anything interesting. I just packed a little, and made you cookies. There's more in the kitchen. I thought it might be a nice snack for the trip tomorrow.”
“Thank you,” Twist said, from the deepest depths of his heart. “You're so thoughtful.”
“You are nice to think about,” she said, petting at his hair gently. Something in her eyes—a subtle darkness, a flash of fire—made Twist's heart leap into a higher speed.
Tasha's laugh sounded from the open doorway as she and Niko entered the room, talking happily in Serbian. Tasha stopped short when her eyes fell on Twist and Myra and her face washed over with surprise.
“Sorry,” she said, a smile blooming now. “I didn't know you were... Excuse us,” she said, already pushing Niko back into the other room.
“Wait, what? No, it's not...” Twist tried to say something coherent, but his words still felt like they were a bit jumbled. Myra pulled back from him slightly, sitting up straighter with her hands on his shoulders now.
“You're sure?” Tasha asked hesitantly.
“Here, try a cookie,” Myra said, picking up the plate and offering it to Tasha with a smile.
“Thank you,” Niko said, stepping around her to take one. He took a bite of it with a deeply pleased tone and gave Twist a jealous look. “You know you don't deserve her, right?” he asked darkly, with a nod at Myra. Myra gave a tsk .
“I keep trying to tell her, but she just won't listen to me,” Twist said
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