you two…”
Miranda flushed, and then looked angry with herself for flushing. “No, it’s not…it’s not like that.”
David raised an eyebrow.
“I mean it! I mean, of course he’s disgustingly hot. But it’s not anything. Or if it is it’s not going anywhere.”
He was laughing at her, and she punched his shoulder. “You do realize how ridiculous you sound to me of all people,” he pointed out. “It’s all right, beloved.”
“No it’s not!”
“Why not?” he asked. “I seem to recall someone telling me we have no control over our emotions, only our actions.”
“I don’t want to sleep with him, David—we’re friends. Maybe like how you and Olivia are friends. But that’s it. I don’t want anyone besides you—ever.”
“Oh?”
“I mean it.”
“All right.” He kissed her forehead, deciding not to press the issue, though he knew perfectly well there was at least one circumstance in which she would feel very differently. “Well, we made rules about extracurricular activities, and they apply to both of us. If you think it’s going somewhere, we’ll talk about it before it does, make sure everything’s out in the open. You’re every bit as entitled to lovers as I am—and you’re also entitled to have none at all. I’m all right with either.”
“But you don’t like him,” she reminded him.
He shrugged. “I don’t have to. I know he wouldn’t hurt you. And if he did I’d rip his lungs out. I’m sure he knows that too. Regardless, I’d recommend you start a conversation before things get awkward. You and I both know how unspoken feelings turn toxic.”
“Yeah.” She leaned on him for a minute, sighing. “Thank you for being… you.”
He smiled and kissed her. “I wouldn’t be me if you weren’t you, so thank you too. Now, you go back to your song, and I’ll see you later. I’ve got three Elite ready to try out the new coms. But try not to put so much pressure on yourself.”
Miranda sat up straight again, pulling her hair back from her face with one hand. Her energy seemed a little lighter, even if her expression wasn’t. “I love you,” she said.
“And I, you, my Queen.”
As he left the music room, he paused at the end of the hall, waiting; he wasn’t about to leave her alone until he heard music. Just the piano was all right, but singing would be even better.
Finally:
“ Sometimes, I think you want me to touch you
How can I, when you build the great wall around you…”
Relieved, David nodded to himself and headed for the workroom, where his three volunteers would be waiting and probably hoping fervently that their boss wasn’t about to electrocute their heads.
*****
About thirteen months ago, the Queen had been at her piano, finalizing the set list for a performance she was giving as a benefit for the Porphyria Foundation. It was the end of a blistering Texas summer, and the Haven air conditioning worked better if there was airflow, so she’d had her music room door open.
She’d felt someone watching her as she ran through one of her new songs.
“It’s rude to stare,” she said without looking over.
“My apologies.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be glued to your brother’s side, pretending we don’t exist?”
She was ready for the cold arrogance, the disdain, but instead, the reply held actual emotion: “He is asleep. I needed a moment to clear my mind from his suffering.”
“So you thought you’d come and make me suffer.”
A pause. Then: “You must understand…when he returned home to Avilon last time he was heartbroken. And now, I see the pain he is in, the unending grief—knowing he has been cast out by his own people, and denied by the one he loves yet again…is it truly surprising I would feel an aversion to this place and to those who, even for the most loving of reasons, brought him to such a pass?”
Miranda finally looked up at the Elf standing in the doorway, frowning. “Cast out?”
He was wearing dark
Miranda flushed, and then looked angry with herself for flushing. “No, it’s not…it’s not like that.”
David raised an eyebrow.
“I mean it! I mean, of course he’s disgustingly hot. But it’s not anything. Or if it is it’s not going anywhere.”
He was laughing at her, and she punched his shoulder. “You do realize how ridiculous you sound to me of all people,” he pointed out. “It’s all right, beloved.”
“No it’s not!”
“Why not?” he asked. “I seem to recall someone telling me we have no control over our emotions, only our actions.”
“I don’t want to sleep with him, David—we’re friends. Maybe like how you and Olivia are friends. But that’s it. I don’t want anyone besides you—ever.”
“Oh?”
“I mean it.”
“All right.” He kissed her forehead, deciding not to press the issue, though he knew perfectly well there was at least one circumstance in which she would feel very differently. “Well, we made rules about extracurricular activities, and they apply to both of us. If you think it’s going somewhere, we’ll talk about it before it does, make sure everything’s out in the open. You’re every bit as entitled to lovers as I am—and you’re also entitled to have none at all. I’m all right with either.”
“But you don’t like him,” she reminded him.
He shrugged. “I don’t have to. I know he wouldn’t hurt you. And if he did I’d rip his lungs out. I’m sure he knows that too. Regardless, I’d recommend you start a conversation before things get awkward. You and I both know how unspoken feelings turn toxic.”
“Yeah.” She leaned on him for a minute, sighing. “Thank you for being… you.”
He smiled and kissed her. “I wouldn’t be me if you weren’t you, so thank you too. Now, you go back to your song, and I’ll see you later. I’ve got three Elite ready to try out the new coms. But try not to put so much pressure on yourself.”
Miranda sat up straight again, pulling her hair back from her face with one hand. Her energy seemed a little lighter, even if her expression wasn’t. “I love you,” she said.
“And I, you, my Queen.”
As he left the music room, he paused at the end of the hall, waiting; he wasn’t about to leave her alone until he heard music. Just the piano was all right, but singing would be even better.
Finally:
“ Sometimes, I think you want me to touch you
How can I, when you build the great wall around you…”
Relieved, David nodded to himself and headed for the workroom, where his three volunteers would be waiting and probably hoping fervently that their boss wasn’t about to electrocute their heads.
*****
About thirteen months ago, the Queen had been at her piano, finalizing the set list for a performance she was giving as a benefit for the Porphyria Foundation. It was the end of a blistering Texas summer, and the Haven air conditioning worked better if there was airflow, so she’d had her music room door open.
She’d felt someone watching her as she ran through one of her new songs.
“It’s rude to stare,” she said without looking over.
“My apologies.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be glued to your brother’s side, pretending we don’t exist?”
She was ready for the cold arrogance, the disdain, but instead, the reply held actual emotion: “He is asleep. I needed a moment to clear my mind from his suffering.”
“So you thought you’d come and make me suffer.”
A pause. Then: “You must understand…when he returned home to Avilon last time he was heartbroken. And now, I see the pain he is in, the unending grief—knowing he has been cast out by his own people, and denied by the one he loves yet again…is it truly surprising I would feel an aversion to this place and to those who, even for the most loving of reasons, brought him to such a pass?”
Miranda finally looked up at the Elf standing in the doorway, frowning. “Cast out?”
He was wearing dark
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