“I’ll show you…if you want.”
“Okay.”
Tamani stood and offered her his hand. He had relinquished his cloak but still wore the black breeches and boots, paired with a loose white shirt with the strings loosened in the front, accentuating his tanned chest. He looked like a hero out of a movie; Wesley from The Princess Bride or Edmond Dantès from The Count of Monte Cristo. Laurel smiled and took his hand.
They wandered closer to a group of musicians; most were playing stringed instruments Laurel could not have named, but she did recognize the woodwinds—flutes and panpipes and something like a simple clarinet. Tamani led her skillfully through dance steps she almost seemed to remember, her feet moving with a grace she didn’t know she had. She bounced and kicked and skipped along with the other couples and, even if she wasn’t quite as graceful as everyone else, she could have held her own at a similar gathering of humans. She danced to another song, and another, until she had lost track of how long they’d been dancing. The sweet-smelling meadow grew more and more crowded as others left their meals to join in the dance, and soon Laurel was awash in a sea of lithe limbs and graceful bodies, rolling and swaying and even crashing to the rhythm of the Summer faeries’ intoxicating music, gauzy clothing fluttering in the temperate air of Avalon’s eternal springtime.
Tamani guided Laurel under his arm in a long string of spins until her head whirled and she collapsed against his chest, laughing and breathing hard. It took her a moment to realize how tightly she was pressed against him. It was different from being close to David; for one thing, Tamani was much nearer to Laurel’s height. Standing so close, their hips met snugly.
She felt his arm tight at her back, holding her in. He would probably let go if she pushed away, but she didn’t. His fingers ran through her hair, then cradled the back of her neck, tilting her face back. He let his nose rest softly against hers and his breath was cool against her face as her fingers curled against the bare skin between the laces of his shirt.
“Laurel.” Tamani’s whisper was so quiet she wasn’t completely sure she’d heard it at all. And before she could think to protest, he kissed her.
His mouth was so soft, gentle, and tender against hers. The sweet taste of him melted into her. The dancing around them became a leisurely waltz as the earth seemed to slow in its orbit, then stop, just for her and Tamani.
Just for a moment.
The illusion shattered as Laurel turned her head, breaking contact, and forced herself to walk away. Out of the green, away from the dancers. Away from Tamani.
Angry, confused feelings spun through her as she walked out of the clearing. Tamani followed but said nothing.
“I should go,” she said vaguely, not turning to face him. And it wasn’t an empty excuse. She wasn’t sure just how long she’d been dancing, but probably too long. She had to get back. She headed in what she guessed was the general direction of the gate, hoping she would start to recognize her surroundings. She waited, optimistically, for Tamani’s hand to touch her waist, gently guiding her in the right direction as he had so many times before.
No such luck.
“You could at least apologize,” Laurel said. Her mood had turned sullen and she wasn’t quite sure why. Her head was a mess of confusion.
“I’m not sorry,” Tamani said, his tone not apologetic in the least.
“Well, you should be!” Laurel said, turning toward him for just a second.
“Why?” Tamani asked, his voice annoyingly calm.
Laurel turned to face him.
“Why should I be sorry? Because I kissed the girl I’m in love with? I love you, Laurel.”
She tried not to go breathless at his words, but she was completely unprepared for them. He had made his intentions known—very bluntly, at times—but he’d never told her straight out that he loved her. It made their flirtations seem too serious. Too consequential. Too close to being unfaithful.
“How long am I supposed to sit back and just wait for you to come to your senses? I’ve been patient. For years I’ve been patient, Laurel, and I’m tired.” He gently held both of her shoulders, leaning over just a little to look her full in the face. “I’m tired of waiting, Laurel.”
“But David—”
“Don’t talk to me about David! If you want to tell me to back off because you don’t like it, then say that. But don’t expect me to worry about David’s feelings. I don’t care about David, Laurel.” He paused, his breath loud, heavy. “I care about you. And when you look at me with that softness in your eyes,” he said, fingers pressing just a little more firmly, “and you look for all the world like you want to be kissed, then I’m going to kiss you, David be damned,” he finished quietly.
Laurel turned away, her head aching. “You can’t, Tam.”
“What would you have me do instead?” he asked, his voice so raw and vulnerable it was all she could do to keep looking at him.
“Just…wait.”
“For what! For your parents to die? For David to die? What am I waiting for, Laurel?” he asked, his voice plaintive.
Laurel turned and started walking again, trying desperately to leave his words behind. She topped a steep hill and instead of seeing a slew of faerie homes, she looked out onto a pure white beach with sapphire blue waves lapping at the shore. Something was off about that—it didn’t smell like the ocean—but she couldn’t turn around, Tamani was behind her. So she kept going, her feet slow in the glittering, crystalline sand.
“Okay.”
Tamani stood and offered her his hand. He had relinquished his cloak but still wore the black breeches and boots, paired with a loose white shirt with the strings loosened in the front, accentuating his tanned chest. He looked like a hero out of a movie; Wesley from The Princess Bride or Edmond Dantès from The Count of Monte Cristo. Laurel smiled and took his hand.
They wandered closer to a group of musicians; most were playing stringed instruments Laurel could not have named, but she did recognize the woodwinds—flutes and panpipes and something like a simple clarinet. Tamani led her skillfully through dance steps she almost seemed to remember, her feet moving with a grace she didn’t know she had. She bounced and kicked and skipped along with the other couples and, even if she wasn’t quite as graceful as everyone else, she could have held her own at a similar gathering of humans. She danced to another song, and another, until she had lost track of how long they’d been dancing. The sweet-smelling meadow grew more and more crowded as others left their meals to join in the dance, and soon Laurel was awash in a sea of lithe limbs and graceful bodies, rolling and swaying and even crashing to the rhythm of the Summer faeries’ intoxicating music, gauzy clothing fluttering in the temperate air of Avalon’s eternal springtime.
Tamani guided Laurel under his arm in a long string of spins until her head whirled and she collapsed against his chest, laughing and breathing hard. It took her a moment to realize how tightly she was pressed against him. It was different from being close to David; for one thing, Tamani was much nearer to Laurel’s height. Standing so close, their hips met snugly.
She felt his arm tight at her back, holding her in. He would probably let go if she pushed away, but she didn’t. His fingers ran through her hair, then cradled the back of her neck, tilting her face back. He let his nose rest softly against hers and his breath was cool against her face as her fingers curled against the bare skin between the laces of his shirt.
“Laurel.” Tamani’s whisper was so quiet she wasn’t completely sure she’d heard it at all. And before she could think to protest, he kissed her.
His mouth was so soft, gentle, and tender against hers. The sweet taste of him melted into her. The dancing around them became a leisurely waltz as the earth seemed to slow in its orbit, then stop, just for her and Tamani.
Just for a moment.
The illusion shattered as Laurel turned her head, breaking contact, and forced herself to walk away. Out of the green, away from the dancers. Away from Tamani.
Angry, confused feelings spun through her as she walked out of the clearing. Tamani followed but said nothing.
“I should go,” she said vaguely, not turning to face him. And it wasn’t an empty excuse. She wasn’t sure just how long she’d been dancing, but probably too long. She had to get back. She headed in what she guessed was the general direction of the gate, hoping she would start to recognize her surroundings. She waited, optimistically, for Tamani’s hand to touch her waist, gently guiding her in the right direction as he had so many times before.
No such luck.
“You could at least apologize,” Laurel said. Her mood had turned sullen and she wasn’t quite sure why. Her head was a mess of confusion.
“I’m not sorry,” Tamani said, his tone not apologetic in the least.
“Well, you should be!” Laurel said, turning toward him for just a second.
“Why?” Tamani asked, his voice annoyingly calm.
Laurel turned to face him.
“Why should I be sorry? Because I kissed the girl I’m in love with? I love you, Laurel.”
She tried not to go breathless at his words, but she was completely unprepared for them. He had made his intentions known—very bluntly, at times—but he’d never told her straight out that he loved her. It made their flirtations seem too serious. Too consequential. Too close to being unfaithful.
“How long am I supposed to sit back and just wait for you to come to your senses? I’ve been patient. For years I’ve been patient, Laurel, and I’m tired.” He gently held both of her shoulders, leaning over just a little to look her full in the face. “I’m tired of waiting, Laurel.”
“But David—”
“Don’t talk to me about David! If you want to tell me to back off because you don’t like it, then say that. But don’t expect me to worry about David’s feelings. I don’t care about David, Laurel.” He paused, his breath loud, heavy. “I care about you. And when you look at me with that softness in your eyes,” he said, fingers pressing just a little more firmly, “and you look for all the world like you want to be kissed, then I’m going to kiss you, David be damned,” he finished quietly.
Laurel turned away, her head aching. “You can’t, Tam.”
“What would you have me do instead?” he asked, his voice so raw and vulnerable it was all she could do to keep looking at him.
“Just…wait.”
“For what! For your parents to die? For David to die? What am I waiting for, Laurel?” he asked, his voice plaintive.
Laurel turned and started walking again, trying desperately to leave his words behind. She topped a steep hill and instead of seeing a slew of faerie homes, she looked out onto a pure white beach with sapphire blue waves lapping at the shore. Something was off about that—it didn’t smell like the ocean—but she couldn’t turn around, Tamani was behind her. So she kept going, her feet slow in the glittering, crystalline sand.
