Her eyes flutter closed, lashes casting shadows on her cheeks, and she presses her face a little harder into my palm. We head back into the living room together, and Gwen has already zoned in on the movie, shutting out the rest of the world. I lay my coffee on the end table, and grab two blankets out of the hallway closet.
Back at the couch, I squeeze into the space between Kalli and the armrest, then start unfolding one of the blankets. Before I even get it open, Gwen crawls over Kalli’s lap, and shoves herself between us, so that she’s resting partly on each of our laps. But that’s not good enough. Wordlessly, she continues wiggling until Kalli laughs and inches over enough that my little sister plops down between us.
Gwen grabs my unfolded blanket, pulling it up and over her, and my eyes connect with Kalli’s above her head. She’s not laughing anymore, but I can still see it on her face. Her eyes are bright in the dim room, and I lay my arm across the back of the couch. Gwen is small enough that I can still wrap my arm around Kalli, even with her between us. And while my sister focuses back on the cartoon, we stay staring at each other.
And something happens in me. Bigger than the night we spent together, or our talk in the kitchen, or even than our moment on the porch. I don’t know how to describe it except to say that it feels … simple. Like finally finding the right fit for a puzzle piece after spending too long trying to cram it into a space that wasn’t quite right.
With the movie playing in the background, Gwen’s cold feet tucked under my thigh, and my hand brushing through Kalli’s silky soft hair, more music filters through my mind, underscoring the moment.
Is this how it feels to fall?
Not so complicated after all.
Chapter Seventeen
Kalli
Forty-five minutes into the movie, both brother and sister have fallen asleep. Gwen is slumped over into my lap, her feet stretched out over Wilder’s thighs, and he’s leaning into the armrest, his head dropped back against the cushions. I give in to the strange impulse to cry when I look at them, and in seconds my cheeks and neck are damp from flowing, silent tears.
I want to scold myself for being ridiculous. Or laugh at my absurd mind, but I can’t. Not here. Not when it’s dark and quiet, and I can feel Gwen breathe against me, and Wilder’s hand still lays warm and heavy against the back of my neck, even in sleep.
I can’t stop my tears because this … this simple moment is something I never would have let myself even dream of, and it’s opening doors that have long been closed, and it aches in the best possible way to feel the dust being blown away.
This is what it’s like to just be. To exist at the very pinnacle of the present. To exist not for another person or a purpose or because of some bigger plan by fate, but for my own fulfillment. When I held onto the inspiration, when I let it take me over, I’d thought that freeing. I remember thinking that I felt truly alive for the very first time. I was wrong. This. Here. On this lumpy couch, I know better than I ever have what it means to live.
I let them both sleep a little while longer, alternating between watching the movie and watching the siblings. Gwen’s hair is lighter, finer, but it curls the same way Wilder’s does. His other hand, the one not resting against my neck is strewn over one of Gwen’s ankles. They’ve got the same skin color, only his is marked and decorated with black and colored ink.
Finally, I decide that Gwen is completely out, and that she’d be better off in her bed. Besides … I can’t stay all night. Even if I want to, even if could spend days just soaking up what it feels like to be with them. I don’t want his mother to come home and find me here. And if I’m honest, I don’t know how safe it is. The energy in me is at low, definitely manageable levels. But it should be nearly non-existent after my last connection with Jack only hours ago. I don’t know what it is, but something about Wilder calls not just to my heart and my spirit, but to my ability too. It rises faster when he’s around. And before I know what that means, I shouldn’t spend prolonged, unnecessary time with him.
Carefully, I slide an arm beneath Gwen’s legs, and another around her shoulders. I maneuver her as gently as I can into my arms. She doesn’t stir, and it takes all my core body strength to stand up smoothly. I kick off the blanket that clings to my feet, and walk her back through the hallway in the direction of where I think her room is. Luckily the first door I nudge open with my toe is definitely hers. Small pink twin bed in the middle. Toys and stuffed animals strewn about. Messy, slept-in sheets.
I lay her down as gently as I can, but it’s hard to control the limp weight of her body, and I end up having to adjust her into a comfortable position. She must be exhausted because she stays sleeping through the entire thing. A lamp is on near her bed that I assume is her night light, and I leave it on just in case. Tucking the blankets up to her chin, I push a few blonde curls back from her face.
She’s such a pretty little girl. Vibrant and enthusiastic, and I think I might love her already. Somewhere in the back of my mind, warning bells go off.
It’s not smart to love mortals.
They’re vulnerable and breakable, and they age and die. All things I knew going into this, but I hadn’t expected my reaction to Wilder and his world would be this potent. If this is how I feel after one night, how will I feel in a week? A month?
Unease prickles along my spine, but when I make my way back into the living room and lay eyes on a sleeping Wilder, it's replaced by the shivering excitement he always seems to induce in me.