Convoke

Chapter 29

On a cold Sunday night, Tom lay next to the soul stripper in a room used to the sound of only one sleeping body. He hugged me. Me. Tom's heartbeat quickened again. Each time he thought that they would stay friends, Ezra glanced at him in a certain way, or sat close enough for them to touch. Tom would flirt and Ezra would blush. Neither of them would tell the other to stop.

Tom wished that he could roll on top of him and push their lips together, but he had to wait for Ezra. Tom's feelings and what he wanted wasn't a mystery to the demon, yet he still resisted him, thinking that it was for the best.

How is it for the best when it's hurting us both? Tom sighed, hugging his pillow. He closed his eyes, hoping the pillow was enough to keep him from reaching out for the demon in his dreams.

The pillow was not enough.

Tom woke to warmth and comfort, more comfort than he had ever felt before. He opened his eyes to black fabric, moving up and down like a calm ocean. He lifted his head, seeing the shapes of Ezra's barbed wire tattoo in the lowlight of dawn.

Only when he stretched did he feel his heavy arm draped around him, holding their bodies close. He thought Ezra was still asleep, so he stole a glance at his face. Tired brown eyes stared down at him, wary and hopeful, and a little scared of being so close.

"Morning," Tom whispered.

A ghost of a smile touched Ezra's lips, almost terrified to move a muscle. Tom didn't comment on their closeness in case it scared him away. He placed his head back onto Ezra's chest, listening to his fast heartbeat until it slowed enough to soothe him back into a light sleep.

He woke again when Ezra moved underneath him. "An angel is outside," Ezra whispered close to his ear. "I need to go with her." Tom grumbled something inaudible and weakly clutched at Ezra's wrist. "Go back to sleep, it's still early," Ezra whispered. Tom felt something on his forehead, hot and soft before drifting back into another dream.

When he woke for the final time, he sat up, glancing around and blinking the sleep from his eyes. He kissed me on the forehead. Tom touched where he remembered the feeling. Such a small tender act, yet for Ezra, it meant that maybe he was giving in, and chasing what his heart wanted.

Tom leapt out of bed and phoned Cal while it was early enough for him to not be at work. They talked for almost an hour while Tom got ready for the day. They discussed the lie to farmer Joel, which Cal was very chill about once his sympathy for Ezra took over. They discussed how Tom and the demon were growing closer. Then they talked about Cal and Harper and how they were planning a trip abroad in the summer.

Tom hung up the phone with hope in his bones, and love in his heart, and relief that he didn't have to work.

His parents weren't up when he left, so he would have to hear about the council meeting through gossip. Though the village was quiet. Tom ate at Cal's work for lunch, rummaged through a few charity shops, and met up with friends who he hadn't seen for a while. in the evening, he ended up outside the library, waiting for the angels to finish choir practice.

He tried not to think about the village meeting. His parents had shut the pub early to fight their corner. He wanted to ask about how it went, but he wasn't sure if he was ready to know. What if his parents lose the pub that had been in their family for generations? The thought was too grim.

Ezra hadn't showed up all day. Tom had wanted to spend time with him, though he had no idea what Ezra was dealing with. He worried about him constantly, and what awful things he was forced to see. His punishment was to take souls and ask no questions.

Ezra said he was accused of murder and was so ashamed that he wouldn't tell Tom what had happened. If only he gave a date of when the crime occurred. If only Ezra gave him names, or a town, or even a county.