Chapter 35: Chapter 34

Rigel’s recovery took time.

It took several days before his sleep cycle completely stabilised, and several more for him to regain control over his body.

He recovered full lucidity, and despite the physical impediments that kept him pinned to the bed, it didn’t take long for the more intractable sides of his personality to re-emerge.

If there was one thing he had never been able to stand, it was being cared for and worried about, in any shape or form. Maybe, because of his illness, he had spurned this so much that he was now repulsed by the idea of anyone having any sort of concern for him. And so, while he struggled to get better, he wasn’t dealing very well with the prospect of being subject to the loving care and attention of complete strangers.

In particular, the nurses.

Over the last few weeks, they had all fallen for that alluring, angelic boy sleeping an unnatural sleep and fighting for his life. They had all tended to him carefully, changing his bandages and looking at him like a dream that was too fragile to last.

Now that he had opened his magnetic, disdainful wolf eyes, the air seemed to crackle with electric excitement.

As was easy to imagine, neither the doctors, nor the head nurse, nor Rigel appreciated this.

‘Miss Dover?’ I heard one afternoon. I was a step away from the door to his room, and turned around to find the head nurse coming towards me.

‘Oh, hello!’ I gripped the flowers and the book I had brought with me. ‘How are you?’

She was a large, matronly woman with a hefty bust and strong arms. She put her hands on her hips and looked at me with an expression that was far from friendly.

‘There have been some altercations…’

‘Oh, erm…again?’ I stammered, trying to lighten the conversation with a laugh, but she didn’t seem in the right mood, so I just gave a somewhat forced smile.

‘I imagine…yes, that there was some…disagreement…’ I tried. ‘But try to understand, this isn’t easy for him. He hasn’t got bad intentions…He’s a good boy. He barks but he doesn’t bite.’

Then I thought for a moment and corrected myself. ‘Well, he does actually bite, now and then…but that’s more in defence…’ I shook my head gently. ‘And you know…he finds this situation stressful.’

‘Stressful?’ she repeated, offended. ‘He gets all the care and attention he needs!’ she retorted. ‘And more!’

‘Exactly…’

‘What?’

‘I’m sure he does,’ I hurried to add. ‘It’s just that he, well…how can I put it…he’s a little wild, but…I assure you, he can be civil. You’d be amazed to know how polite he can be. He just needs to get used to it…’

She was still looking at me with a deeply furrowed brow so I pulled a marvellously fragrant lily out of the bunch of flowers and held it out to her with one of my sweetest smiles. She softened and took it with a murmur. I was satisfied.

‘Don’t worry. Trust me. I’m sure that he’ll be able to behave in a way more appropriate for…’

‘What are you doing?’

I whirled around. That alarmed voice had come from Rigel’s room.

Without thinking, I rushed inside. The nurse at his bedside was red and agitated.

I moved around her, and only then saw him.

Bathed in the sunlight illuminating the white curtains, there was a complex bandage around Rigel’s chest and the bedcovers were pulled down to his pelvis. His cheeks were shadowed, and he flashed his mesmerising, dark eyes at the nurse next to him.

‘What’s happening?’ I asked, when I saw that he was sitting up, leaning on his arm. He was gripping the bedcovers as if they were imprisoning him.

‘I told him he can’t get up,’ the nurse said. ‘But he won’t listen…’

‘It’s all fine.’ I smiled politely at the woman, putting a hand on his shoulder to guide him back down. I felt his muscles struggling not to rebel. ‘There’s no need for alarm…’

She slipped away, taking his lunch tray with her. I watched her disappear through the door, then turned back to him with a sweet smile.

‘Where did you think you were going?’

Rigel shot me a glare like a captive beast, but that was all.

I calmly arranged the flowers, as if I hadn’t just caught him disobeying the doctors again. ‘How are you today?’

‘Marvellous,’ he spat out bitingly. ‘They’ll put a sign outside my room soon, like in a zoo.’

He wasn’t in a very good mood. Having been caught trying to sneak off probably didn’t help.

‘You’ve got to be patient,’ I said gently, reviving the petals with my fingers. ‘You’re in capable hands, you know? And being nice, once in a while, wouldn’t hurt. Or at least not hostile. Could you try, at least?’

Rigel stared at me, his upper lip slightly curled, and I gave him an indulgent look.

‘They told me you were rude to a nurse. Is it true?’

‘She wanted to shove plastic tubes up my nose,’ he hissed, deeply indignant. ‘I politely told her she could put them up her –’

‘Oh, Nica, how lovely to see you again!’

Doctor Robertson came into the room, his shirt fluttering and a little card under his arm. He came up to us and with a delighted expression, said, ‘Hello Rigel, how was the soup?’

Rigel smiled politely.

‘It was pitiful.’

‘We’re in a good mood today, I see,’ the doctor observed, then asked him the normal, routine questions.

He asked him if he had any lethargy or light-headedness to report. He asked him if his headaches were frequent and Rigel gave him the necessary answers, as if responding to his questions was an obligation he could not avoid.

‘Good,’ Doctor Robertson announced. ‘I’d say that your recovery is proceeding well.’

‘When can I get out of here?’

The doctor blinked and stared at him, wide-eyed.

‘Get out? Get out…Well…The microfracture on your pelvis has healed. As for the collarbone…that will take a couple of weeks yet. And your ribs still haven’t healed. You can’t really expect to just ignore life-threatening injuries, can you?’

Rigel gave him a piercing glare, but Doctor Robertson held his gaze, unwavering.

‘Remember, as well, that however unpleasant hospital food might be, it’s important that you eat. It’s necessary for your health to get back on track.’

I found my gaze flitting between them, trying to read the palpable tension in the air. Rigel seemed to be putting in a huge amount of effort to do as I had told him and not say anything uncivil, and, after promising he’d be back later in a satisfied tone, Doctor Robertson strutted triumphantly from the room.

Rigel sank back onto the pillows with a sigh so resigned that it almost sounded like a snarl. He lifted his arms, and crossed them over his face.

‘If I stay here any longer…’

It was unusual for him to speak so much. But what we had gone through had knocked down the wall which had always hidden his soul. It was as if, after what I had said and done for him, Rigel had finally understood that he couldn’t hide from me any longer.

‘You were in a coma for over a month,’ I reminded him, sitting down on his bed. ‘Don’t you think that all this is…appropriate?’

‘I would appreciate it,’ he enunciated through gritted teeth, ‘if they didn’t come to change my bandages when there’s no need.’

‘Can’t you enjoy being cared for, every once in a while?’

He froze. He moved an arm, and looked at me as if I had said the most ridiculous thing in the world.

‘Being cared for?’ he replied sarcastically.

‘Yes, cared for…’ My cheeks went pink. ‘I don’t know, you could, you know…relax. I know it’s not easy for you…but every now and then you could try to let someone look after you. Enjoy the attention for a bit,’ I stammered, glancing at him. His arms were still raised, crossed over his face, but his eyes were fixed on me.

I got the impression that he was still thinking intently about the idea of being cared for, but understanding it in a very different way to me…

Before he could say anything, I got up carefully. I smoothed my shirt and tucked my hair behind my ears.

‘Where are you going?’ he asked, as if I was leaving for the ends of the world.

I turned and realised he was still watching me.

‘I’m just going to the vending machine,’ I replied, then I laughed. ‘Where are you worried I’ll go?’

Rigel gave me a sideways glance, maybe scared that if I left him at the mercy of the doctors, someone would take advantage of my absence to lock him in that room.

It was unusual to see him so vulnerable and nervous, trapped in an environment that in his twisted mind felt hostile. So I smiled at him sweetly and brushed his dark hair off his face.

‘I’m going to get some water. I’ll be right back…Look at that book I brought you, it’s the one on the mechanics of stars you asked me for.’

I gave him a lingering look before leaving.

I walked along the corridor towards the lobby and pulled out some change for the vending machines.

‘Oh, you’re here!’

I turned to see that familiar shock of golden hair.

‘Adeline!’

She smiled, radiant, and I moved my hair behind my shoulders. She was wearing a flowy, indigo blouse that looked amazing with her eyes.

‘I’ve brought you the house keys…Anna said you forgot them.’

She held out the keys with their butterfly keyring, and I took them.

‘Oh, thanks, I hope it wasn’t a bother…’

‘Don’t worry, I was coming this way…Asia’s outside, she drove by the shop and she’s going to give me a lift home. Did the lilies go down well?’

‘They’ve got such a strong scent,’ I thanked her happily. ‘You were right.’

In her shining eyes, I saw that light we had in common.

Adeline was no longer looking for a job. The event at the Mangrove Club had been a big success. Everyone had loved Anna’s flower arrangements so much that in the following days she got constant phone calls. She got bookings for event after event, each one more important than the last, and her shop finally got the chance she had so hoped for and so deserved.

And that wasn’t all. Her eyes brimming with fondness, Anna had offered Adeline the job she had spent so long seeking.

When Carl, her assistant, had seen her come through the shop door, his jaw almost dropped to the floor. He immediately offered to help her, not knowing that Adeline had always had a rare sensitivity. She was capable of bringing light even to my greyest days. I wasn’t surprised to learn that she had a particular affinity with flowers that made her a perfect fit for the job.

And there were no words that could express how I felt when I went into the shop to see Anna and Adeline there together, laughing and chatting.

I had always wanted Adeline to stay in my life. Now I knew that she would.

‘Is Asia not coming in?’ I asked, looking towards the entrance.

‘Oh, no, she’s waiting for me in the car,’ she smiled, shaking her head. ‘You know how impatient she can get.’

An unexpected friendship had formed between them during my convalescence. When Asia came back to visit me, Adeline had done everything she could to involve her. They would sit behind me, each holding a section of my hair, and as Asia would mumble indignantly that it was impossible, Adeline giggled softly and showed her how to do a fishtail braid.

Over time, Asia came back even without me asking her.

‘She’s not that bad,’ Adeline joked.

‘No,’ I agreed. ‘She can be a bit difficult but…she’s a good person. All she does is tell me I’m stubborn.’ I smiled, remembering what she had said. ‘Pig-headed, incorrigible and as constant as hope.’

‘It’s true. You are. You’re like hope.’

I raised my face and looked Adeline in the eyes. Her tone wasn’t casual like mine. No…she was being sincere.

‘I’d never manage to do what you’ve done.’

‘Adeline…’

‘No,’ she said, her voice clear. ‘I couldn’t do it. Staying by him every day without ever losing heart. Waking up every morning with the strength to smile. You gave him all of yourself…You spoke to him every day, and every night. You were strong enough to continue even when you were fading away…You never gave up. It’s true what the doctor says. It’s only a light as powerful as yours that could bring him back.’

Embarrassed, a warmth spread through my chest and I smiled gently.

‘The doctor never said that…’ I mumbled, but Adeline gave me the same fragile smile.

‘He told me in confidence.’

I looked down at my fingers. My Band-Aids were a reassuring riot of colours.

‘Asia helped me. As I was fading away, she helped me find my way. I know now why Anna is so fond of her…She was right about her.’

Adeline touched my arm encouragingly.

‘Oh,’ she burst out as a car horn honked from outside. ‘I’ve got to go…’

‘Aren’t you coming to say hi to Rigel?’

‘Oh, I’d love to, but Asia’s waiting for me! Maybe tomorrow, after my shift…will you be here?’

I nodded happily. ‘Of course.’

She smiled at me. Then she said goodbye and turned around in a swirl of golden hair.

I watched her run outside, and glimpsed her opening a car door.

Asia lifted up her sunglasses, grumbling reproachfully, and I saw Adeline chuckling as she put her seatbelt on. A few moments later, the car darted away.

I turned around, a smile on my lips and my hair swishing down my back.

When I got back to Rigel’s room, he was no longer alone.

Next to his bed was a tray and the nurse who had brought it was arranging his bedsheets, careful not to tangle the wires of his IV drip.

I realised that I had already seen her there many times. It was often her who changed his bandages. She was very young, and as delicate as a fawn. When she touched Rigel’s skin, I felt an itch in my stomach.

Rigel seemed to realise that she was stealing glances at him. He was about to shoot a glare at her, but at the last minute, something else flashed in his eyes. He glimpsed at her name badge and then pulled himself up, leaning towards her with a persuasive smile.

‘What do you think, Dolores, would it be possible to get something decent to eat?’

She blushed and her eyes widened. She tried to reply, but faced with those eyes, all that came out of her mouth were disconnected words.

‘I’m sorry but I’m not…not…’

‘Erm.’

The nurse jumped as if something had exploded. She turned around and found me standing in the doorway. Her cheeks on fire, she moved away and disappeared behind me.

I stared at Rigel, pouting slightly with a frown. I got to his bed and put the bottle of water on his bedside table, as he watched his chances for a better lunch vanish.

‘Could you try not to…corrupt the nurses?’ I grumbled, slightly sulkily.

Rigel stiffly rearranged himself between the covers.

‘I was trying to be polite…’ he joked through gritted teeth, not even trying to be believable. I stared at him, slightly reproachfully.

‘You’re not supposed to get up,’ I reminded him, looking at the complicated bandage on his collarbone. ‘The doctor said that you’ve got to keep your arm as still as possible…It hurts, doesn’t it?’ I whispered, seeing his tense jaw, ‘Oh, Rigel…You know you shouldn’t force it…’

Rigel didn’t even care about his broken ribs, but I remembered well the stabbing pains every time I moved. Even breathing had hurt. I was sure he must have been in pain.

‘If you want to get out of here, you have to take it easy, follow their advice, and above all…eat,’ I concluded, as my gaze fell on the tray they had brought him.

Rigel gave me a hostile glare but I reached out to take the tray and put it on my knees, looking at the contents. A glass of water and fruit, which, for convalescents, consisted of apple sauce.

I took the plastic tub and turned it over in my fingers before opening it. I put the spoon down and held the tray out to him.

‘Come on, eat.’

He glowered at the apple sauce as if it could poison him. I got the impression that moving was really hurting him now. He had seriously overdone it, even though he would never admit it.

‘No, thanks,’ he murmured, in a tone of voice that would have made anyone desist. Except me.

Carefully, I took the tub and held it in my hands. I rearranged myself then plunged the spoon into the golden pulp.

‘What are you doing?’

‘The more you stay still the better it is…That’s what the doctor said, right?’ I smiled tenderly. ‘Come on, open up.’

He stared at me, the spoon in my hand, struggling to understand. When he seemed to realise that my intention was exactly as he had suspected – to spoon-feed him – a wild, indignant look sharpened his eyes.

‘No way.’

‘Come on, Rigel, don’t be a baby…’ I breathed, coming nearer. ‘Open up…’ I placed the spoon close to his mouth, and flooded him with my most innocent look.

He clenched his jaw, staring at me, his lips pressed tight shut. It was as if the urge to throw the tray up in the air was fighting furiously against the fact that it was me coaxing him.

‘Come on…’ I wheedled.

Rigel clenched his teeth. He seemed to be straining to not say whatever was caught in his throat. Then, seeing my sweet, keen expression…and my encouraging, imploring eyes…after what seemed like a genuine internal struggle, he finally decided to open his mouth a tiny crack.

I softly guided the spoon between his lips, and he stared at me, his eyes so burning they almost consumed me. Finally, his gaze full of bitterness, he swallowed.

‘Well, was that so bad?’

‘Yes,’ he spat out petulantly, but I had already prepared a second spoonful. For a moment, I thought he would break it with his teeth. With good will and a lot of patience, I convinced him to eat more than half the tub.

At a certain point, some of the sauce dribbled out the corner of his mouth, and without thinking, I collected it with the spoon. He saw my eyes brimming with tenderness and couldn’t take it any longer.

‘That’s enough,’ he hissed, snatching the tub and the spoon from me. He dropped them on the bedside table, and before I could protest, the tray suffered the same fate.

‘Oh, well,’ I said in a little voice. ‘We almost…’

His arm wrapped around my waist and he pulled me towards him.

I tried to not fall on top of him but it was useless: he was too strong, I couldn’t extract myself.

‘Rigel,’ I stammered, caught off-guard. ‘What are you doing?’

I tried to pull back, but he held me tightly against his body. Before I could say anything, he moved his lips to my ear and growled flippantly, ‘You wouldn’t deny me a moment of being…cared for…’

I flushed. The heat of his skin reminded me how much I had missed him. My breath shook, and Rigel buried his face in my neck and inhaled my scent, encircling me with his arm. I felt him take a deep breath.

‘Rigel, we’re in public…’ I stammered, blushing.

‘Mm…’

‘What if someone comes in…’ His fingers slowly probed under my denim shirt, finding a way to touch the skin on my waist. He gripped my hip and I held my breath.

‘R…Rigel, you don’t want to make the head nurse angry again…’

I jumped and my eyes flew open, shocked, bringing a hand to my neck.

He had just bitten me.

‘Rigel!’

—

Time healed more wounds than one.

I was most relieved about Billie and Miki.

What had happened to me had made them think about how life is too short and unpredictable to waste time on misunderstandings. They finally had a conversation, and even though neither of them told me what was said, I understood that the storm had passed.

One day, I even saw them arriving at school holding hands. Looking in their clear eyes, I knew their friendship had been repaired. Scrutinising Miki’s face, I couldn’t find any trace of melancholy or disappointment. I knew that for her, as well, the fact of having someone so important back by her side superseded any of her heart’s other desires.

Their relationship probably wouldn’t go back to what it was like before…but watching them holding hands, I understood they too would gradually work out a way to stay together.

Until the very end.

I picked an afternoon to ask them over to do homework together. That same day, I took my heart and opened it like a book.

I told them everything.

From losing my parents, to finding myself on the doorstep of the institute at five years old, alone and with nothing left. I told them about when my days at The Grave became years, and about the matron, the pages that she had torn out of the story of our lives.

And then I told them about Rigel.

I told them everything, not missing anything out. All his biting and teasing; every secret and word left unsaid; every single moment that had tied us together with a thread stronger than destiny.

I told them our story, not changing a single comma.

Even though it was so imperfect and destroyed, even though in many people’s eyes it would have been incomprehensible…it was the only story I wanted.

At the hospital, things got better. Rigel’s bandages were taken off and he started rehabilitation. The complete recovery of his faculties was far from problem-free, and I don’t know how many flowers I had to give to the head nurse for the various disagreements that arose.

Then…there was the question of the adoption.

As soon as Rigel was no longer a member of the Milligan family, he would have to go back to an institute, but Anna did everything in her power to stop him being sent far away. She made many phone calls, went in person to the offices of Social Services to explain that, given Rigel’s illness, keeping him nearby would allow him to keep in contact and therefore to maintain a mental stability that was critical for his condition.

With help from the doctor, Anna also attached medical reports that stressed the correlation between Rigel’s psychological state and his pain attacks: it had been demonstrated that a peaceful environment made them less severe and frequent, while stress and anxiety just made them worse.

In the end, to all our surprise and relief, they decreed that he should be transferred to the Saint Joseph Institute. The same as Adeline.

The Saint Joseph was so much closer than The Grave, just a few bus stops away. The director was a stocky, burly man, and Adeline assured me that despite his grouchy personality, he was a good person. Looking into her sincere eyes, a part of me felt relieved that Rigel wouldn’t be alone.

As for school, on the other hand, Anna had already paid the fees for the whole year, and so he would graduate with me.

As I walked along the deserted hospital corridor late that afternoon, my footsteps echoed against the walls as they had done countless times. It was difficult to imagine that the next day I would not be back.

I came to a stop in front of his room as always.

The bed was made, the chair against the wall was no longer there. The bedside table was cleared, there were no more flowers to break up all the white.

The moment of his discharge had come.

Standing still on the threshold to the room, I admired his backlit silhouette.

Outside there was a stormy sunset, still beaded with raindrops.

The clouds were illuminated by a flaming red and the light that shone through the air seemed capable of anything.

Rigel was standing by the window. His black hair framed his face and his strong shoulders stood out against the glass. One hand was slid into his pocket in a way that made him look tragically enchanting.

I took a moment to watch him in silence.

I saw him as a child again, with that angelic little face and his eyes so black.

I saw him at seven years old, with grazed knees and my ribbons in his hands.

I saw him at ten years old, a candle in front of him, staring into nothingness.

I saw him at twelve years old, his eyes wary and his chin lowered, and then at thirteen, fourteen and fifteen, with that unscrupulous beauty that never seemed to change.

Rigel, who never let himself be touched, whose intelligence made everyone fall quiet, who threw his head back in joyless laughter. Rigel, cheekily clicking his tongue, terrifying people with just a glance – Rigel, watching me from a distance, hidden, with the eyes of a boy but the heart of a wolf.

Rigel, so rare, twisted, shadowy and alluring.

I saw him, through and through, and couldn’t believe that he was…mine.

That inside him, that wolf heart silently carried my name.

I would never let him go again.

‘Here we go then,’ he heard a voice.

Rigel turned his head and saw Nica approaching, her hands clasped behind her back. Her long hair was fluttering, and there was something utterly brilliant in those springs of stars she had for eyes.

She stopped near him, next to the window.

‘So, Rigel? Do you agree to stop running away?’ Nica asked him. ‘To give yourself up to me?’

‘Will you give yourself up to me?’ He repeated the question back to her, his voice husky and calm. He looked at her deeply and whispered, ‘Will you give yourself up…to what I am?’

The corners of Nica’s mouth curled. She looked at him in that way that melted his soul between his bones and replied, ‘I already have.’

And Rigel knew it was true.

It had taken a lot for him to realise. To accept it.

It had taken all her praying.

It had taken tears. And shouting. It had taken her anguish at seeing him leave for a place where she couldn’t reach him.

It had taken those words she had whispered to him that last night, to make him understand once and for all.

For a moment, he wondered what would have happened if things had been different. If they had never fallen from that bridge. He would have left, to save her from himself, and Nica would have never learnt that every single choice he had ever made, in his whole life, revolved around one single thing.

Her.

Maybe, one day, even if they could never know when, they would have found each other.

Or maybe not. Maybe they would be lost forever, and he would have lived an entire life imagining her growing up.

Instead, she was there, after weeks of crying.

And looking into those eyes he had carried inside him since childhood, Rigel heard his heart whispering…

This is the only way I could understand it.

Hearing you next to me every day.

And listening to you cry every night.

I never really believed that you could want…me. And now you know the disaster I am, you can understand why.

I always thought you would be happier if I let you go. I don’t know how to be like other people, his desperate heart wanted to tell her. I never have, and I never will.

But you made me see that I was wrong.

Because now you know everything, you see me for what I am. But despite this, you don’t want to change me. Despite this, you’re not afraid. Despite all this, what you want is…to stay with me.

And in the end, after all these unspoken words, after everything he had always been, Rigel slowly closed his eyes and just sighed…

‘I give myself up.’

Her smile was shaking and bright.

‘Good,’ she breathed, with an emotion that seemed to split her chest asunder. Her look seemed to say, ‘We’ve got time to combine our flaws to make something beautiful.’

She was so damned irresistible that Rigel wondered how he was managing to suppress the urge to touch her. Before he could give in to the impulse, Nica brandished under his nose what she had been hiding behind her back.

He was speechless.

It was a black rose. With many leaves and a stalk riddled with thorns.

It was like the one that he had given to her long ago, and that he had then torn to pieces in a burst of anguish.

‘Is that…for me?’

‘Me?’ Nica raised an eyebrow playfully, ‘Did I give you a flower?’

Rigel turned his head, about to frown. He was starting to furrow his brow when something completely unexpected happened.

An invisible force curled his lips, and for the first time he felt something sincere and spontaneous being born within him.

Not the smirk which masked his pain. No…

What he saw in the reflection of her eyes was a mercilessly radiant smile.

Nica stared at him, holding her breath. Her eyes were still a little shiny, but now they were wide open and expressionless as he’d never seen them before.

Rigel wanted her to look at him like that forever.

‘I like it when you smile,’ she whispered, smiling too. Her hands were trembling now, and seeing her like that, her cheeks flushed and her eyes emotional, the urge to touch her became unbearable.

Rigel slipped a hand into her hair and pulled her towards him.

He tried not to hurt her as he embraced her tightly.

God, her hair…her scent…her shining eyes looking at him without fear, expectantly, even as he held her so tightly.

She was his star.

He bent down to her ear, wrapping his free hand around hers, which was still holding the rose.

As the writhing feeling within him urged him to kiss her inviting lips, Rigel thought he could tell her anything he had been carrying inside, right there and then.

Right at the end of everything.

That he had loved her every day, since she was just a child.

That he had hated her, because he didn’t know what love was, and then he had hated himself for exactly the same reason.

That she was so good for him it almost hurt, because every flower within him stabbed with thorns, just like that rose she was holding.

He could have whispered so many things, right there, into her ear.

He could have told her, ‘I love you, to the bone.’

Instead, clutching her hair, he chose to say…

‘You are…my Tearsmith.’

And Nica, so sweet, small and fragile, smiled. Smiled through her tears.

Because it was as if he was telling her…

You are the reason I can cry, and the cause of my happiness.

You are the reason my soul is full, and feels, feels everything it can feel.

You are the reason I can withstand any pain, because seeing the stars makes it worth slipping into the night.

You are all this for me, and more than I can say.

More than anyone could ever know.

He kissed her, losing himself in her mouth. He devoured her lips slowly, gently, finding them so soft and sweet it was maddening.

Nica took his face between her hands and for the first time, Rigel found relief in that unbelievable pain that only she could inflict on him.

Because those petals and thorns would always be part of him.

From the beginning to the end.

Whether it was the rose she was holding, or the roses he carried inside…it didn’t matter.

The flowers she had given him, after all, were all the same.