Chapter 120: What I Can't Deny*

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It's almost eleven o' clock by the time Sebastian and I get back home and stumble into the great room of our apartment together.

"Bash, careful!" I attempt to intercede for his tiredness, but he lets his body collapse face first, as he so often does, onto one of the great sofas where he's immediately engulfed in the blanket wasteland that has accumulated over the past few days. We've been too distracted to neatly fold or organize anything, to say nothing of connecting with one another in any kind of meaningful way.

How is it that I feel like I miss him, even with him here with me, right now?

The low light and greenish glow from the lacewing flies that dance within the massive globes hanging high above us in the multi-storied center of the room cast a pallid hue on Sebastian's skin which makes my sweet boy look especially exhausted.

"April?" he mumbles from squished lips against the sofa.

"Yeah?"

"Hold me."

Oh my heart.

In a swift motion, I move towards my brave boy and wave my wand, changing our clothes into much more comfortable night time attire. Sebastian moans with relief from the change, donning nothing but loose, comfortable knit pants of a chocolate brown, and me in – of course – cozier layers for warmth: a pair of chunky oatmeal-colored socks scrunches up to my lower calf, and a massive, cable-knit sweater the color of lambs wool drapes over my chemise to my knees. I have too much anxiety lately and too little energy for coordinated pieces or color.

By the time I finish securing my hair up on my head in a black ribbon and reach Sebastian on the sofa, he's adjusted slightly and mumbles a 'thank you' while I tuck my legs up and situate myself beneath his chest and head. His arms fully wrap around my waist and he melts into my lap, clinging to me in such an innocent, needy, and boyish way that my heart breaks as much as it swells with even more love for him.

It's so quiet now, especially in contrast to the other events of the evening. So much planning, and teaching, and talking, and coordinating, and then releasing Ominis from his cursed state, and more talking, and more speculating.

Unsurprisingly, Ominis was shocked to hear what had happened the night of the Matriarkka Måne. He had so many questions.

Thankfully, until we began to break it for him, Ominis seems to have not been aware of his state. Said it was like nothing more than a deep sleep. Thaigo even joked about how refreshed Ominis looked, trying to add some levity to the seriousness of the thing.

But, due to Thiago and Sebastian's tireless trial and error, he did recover from the spell that held him paralyzed for the past few days with no pain, exactly as we had all hoped.

If only the same could be said for Anne who, in an unexpected twist, ultimately endured the brunt of the suffering.

Sebastian sighs. "I have wanted this – you – all day..." His breath makes a knotted kind of sound in the thick of his throat that could sound as much like relief as it does like apprehension. "But I couldn't. I wouldn't have been able to push through. I'd have–" he cuts himself off with a sigh of defeat and squeezes his arms tighter around me. "–I still failed. Only I never thought I'd have failed Anne and not Ominis."

"I know it feels like you let her down, Bash, but we had no way of knowing her magic behaves like yours," I assure him, pulling his hair from the rowdy knot it has become at the top of his head and brushing my fingers through it. I enjoy the way the tension releases from his body in an almost palpable way with my fingers snaking up from around his bare shoulder blades into his scalp and scratching gently with my fingertips in downward, squiggly motions.

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