Angie tossed and turned in and out of sleep. The worst part? She had everything she needed for the best night.
Her mattress was heavenly. The breeze coming from the open balcony doors was delightful. Beneath her head the rock-hard abs of an angel God greeted her along with his soft fingers teasing through her hair and along her spine.
Knowing he couldn't sleep, Angie made sure to stay quiet and still during her bouts of consciousness. She didn't want him to notice.
Her thoughts had been haunted all through the night.
Even as his fingers drew circles into her back and his lips peppered light kisses along her skin, her brain wouldn't stray from what she'd already thought.
What if he didn't remember her when he came back to life?
What if he woke up in his throne room and only remembered what'd happened six hundred years ago? What if he forgot this time they'd been through together?
Angie would be forced to remember whilst he moved on as if she'd never so much as passed through his life.
At the thought, a knot of anxiety pooled in her stomach.
Why did that bother her so much?
She knew why. But she didn't want to say.
Would his last memory be of him dying?
And what of Angie?
"I know you're awake," He mumbled through the dark. Angie froze up, her back tensing and giving her away.
"Whaaa?"
He ran a hand through her hair. Even as he whispered, she could hear the smile in his voice. "You think I can't feel your heartbeat thumping against my chest?"
Her naked chest laid against his, her arm strewn across his body as his wings wrapped her up tight.
"Shush. I'm trying to sleep."
The pitter patter of his fingers against her skin was intoxicating. She bit back a purr or moan.
"Everything's going to be fine," He soothed. "This is going to run smoothly. We'll be in my realm before you know it. Nothing's going to happen to you. I won't let it."
Angie wasn't worried about that. She knew she was safe.
But she wouldn't tell him her true worries. Angie didn't want to feel small. Saying it out loud would sound so ridiculous.
What did it matter if this man forgot her? It wasn't like their lives were going to remain entangled when all of this was over. They'd be parting ways soon, never to see each other again.
His remembering her was insignificant.
But it still hurt.
"I trust you."
At her words, his hold on her body tightened. She felt his fluttery kiss against her hairline. "Try to sleep. You've got a busy day in the morning."
"Not more walking. Just tell me there'll be no more walking."
"Go to sleep baby."
When Angie woke up next, Eros was—of course—already watching her. He gave her a friendly morning smile and stroked her hair.
Angie tried to bite back her nervousness as she looked at him. All those worried, fearful thoughts.
But the thought of him forgetting her didn't sit right at all.
"What's the plan for today?" She asked in a bid to distract herself.
"Today we're headed to the island where the portal to my realm is located."
One step closer to all of this being over. One step closer to his resurrection. One step closing to their parting of ways. One step closer to him possibly forgetting her.
Oh God. She hated that thought.
"And then we go through it?" She asked.
"That's the plan."
"And then you'll come back to life."
"If everything goes accordingly, yes."
And then you might forget about me.
Angie didn't want him to forget about her. They'd been getting along. And, and she felt important when she was with him. Like she mattered that little bit more. Like she wasn't going to be second best.
She twiddled her thumbs. "Are you still mad at me after yesterday?"
"I've gotten over it. But I want us to be honest with each other. I don't care what the secret is. We'll deal with it together."
Together. How much longer would their together last?
"I might be able to agree to that." She sat still for a moment, contemplating vulnerability. Angie hated it—but it was time to start being honest with him. "I'm scared of being your friend. I don't—I don't do attachments. I don't know how. I don't have attachments."
"That's alright. I don't have many friends either. This will be a first for both of us."
She released a breath, staring at his face.
She wanted to say that he was lying.
But the proof was in the pudding.
She'd never thought of it like that.
In the dreams, she'd seen the truth behind what he'd said. He had Ares. His person. But other than that, Eros didn't seem to do attachments either. His intercourse was meaningless. His friendships were fabricated to serve his purpose.
Like her, he'd been isolated.
"Are you annoyed that I've seen your entire life story?"
He pursed his lips. "Knowing you've had these dreams explains a lot about how much you knew."
"You didn't answer the question."
"No. I'm not annoyed about you having the dreams. I'm not keeping my life a secret. I'm more annoyed about those tablets. It's not right to suppress your dreams. I need to find out why you've been having them." He scrubbed a hand over his jaw, seeming tired. "It can't be a coincidence that I'm tied to you and that you've been having these dreams. There's something more at work here."
He had a point.
Too many things about all of this didn't add up.
That thought drifted away at the knocking of a door.
She bounded over, meeting Claudio on the other side.
"You're here," She stated, brows raised. "Thought you were running away."
He rolled his eyes. "Good morning to you too Angie. I came to say breakfast is ready if you've got no more stupid questions."
"Stupid questions? It was just a—"
"Nope. Not listening. Breakfast."
"I'll be through in a minute."
She closed the door, ignoring the God's look of question and headed over to her bag to pick some clothes out.
Having tugged the zip down, she stilled, freezing up.
How—?
At the top, as if it'd never left her bag in the first place, rested a leather-bound book. She lifted it cautiously, her mouth drying.
How could it be there?
Eros had thrown it into the river.
She'd watched it sink.
The book wasn't even wet. The pages weren't creased or soggy. In fact, if it weren't for the writing on the pages, she'd think it was newly bought.
"Eros? I—I don't know how, but the book's back."
From the bed, he frowned at her. "What book?"
"That communication book. It's in my bag."
"What do you—" He drifted off, seeing what she held tentatively. He rose, looking more serious than she'd ever seen him before. "Give me that." He snatched it from her grasp and turned it over. "It can't be the same book." But the cover was exactly the same. He flipped it open, eyes scanning across their handwriting. "It's the same questions. The same answers. The same..."
Do I have to die?
She knew he was reading it and watched his face carefully.
He swallowed, but he didn't say anything on the matter. Angie didn't either.
He closed the book.
"It's all the same," She stated.
"But it can't be." He didn't understand. He flipped through the pages again as if the answer would jump out at him. "I threw it in." But it was here. That fact couldn't be denied. The pages were covered in their own handwriting. Their questions and the answers they'd been given. "Fuck. It's exactly the same. The exact same book."
"Is that a bad thing?"
He nodded gravely. "It's a really bad thing."
"Why?"
"It's dark magic." He pulled a face. Even talking about it didn't sit right. "Dark magic is bad news. We don't want to start messing with this kind of shit."
"What's the difference between normal magic and dark magic?"
"Dark magic is impure. People that mess with it end up punished."
"How?"
"Don't fixate on that. Just know that we don't mess with this shit, okay? Ever."
Because everyone who dibble dabbled with the dark stuff got their punishment in the end.
He opened the book again with a new resolve. Grasping the pages, he tore out as many as he could at a time, letting them blow uselessly around the room.
When they magically grew from the book's spine, he cursed.
"Pen, Angie."
She grabbed one from the depths of her bag, standing nervously as he started to scribble.
When she came close enough, he dragged her down to the bed from where they could both see what he was writing.
No secrets.
They were in this together.
Who are you?
A second ticked by. Then another.
Soon, letters and words began to etch themselves across the page of their own accord.
I only answer to Evangeline.
He groaned in irritation, thrusting the pen into her hand.
Angie didn't need to ask what was expected of her. She repeated the question.
Who are you?
Like before, those perfect letters began to appear upon the page.
You'll find out soon.
"Not good enough," Eros muttered, agitation mounting.
Of her own volition, she penned in the next question.
Why me?
They were both wondering it. Why did she specifically have the dreams of Eros? Why was it her life that his was linked to? Why did she have this book? Why her? Of all people. Of all species. Why did it have to be her?
When no reply came, she built on it.
Why am I having these dreams? Why is Eros linked to me? Why is all of this happening?
She held her breath, waiting for the answer. But the person writing was taking their damned time. It was like they knew she was waiting, trepidation building.
Her palms grew clammy with sweat.
Why don't you ask Eros?
Angie frowned. But she didn't miss the sound that came from beside her. That quick intake of breath. Was he shocked too?
Angie scribbled faster.
What do you mean?
Beside her, Eros began to shuffle.
A reply came all too fast.
Eros has your answers.
Her head whipped around to the side just in time to spot that look of realisation upon the God's face. He looked stunned, overwhelmed, taken aback.
Somehow, despite all of that shock, he looked awfully pleased at the same time. As if everything had finally snapped into place. As if things were starting to make sense.
Good for some. Angie was more in the dark than ever.
"Well?" She prompted. "Aren't you going to tell me?"
"Angie, I..."
No way.
She scoffed in understanding.
He was genuinely going to keep this a secret. After all his big talk earlier, he was keeping secrets.
"Don't you dare," She snapped. "You said we're going to start being honest with each other. I'm being honest with you. It's not even been an hour since you said that. You can't break your own idea already. Just tell me."
He gave her a guilty wince. "I can't yet."
"That's not fair. You said you'd tell me things."
"And I will, just not now."
That wasn't good enough.
"This is concerning me. If you have the answers, I have a right to know."
"I know you do. I know you do baby. But it's not the right time."
"You're a dick."
"No listen to me. Listen, Angie look." He cupped her cheeks, trying to make her see things his way. But it was impossible. Angie wasn't impressed. "The second the time's right, I'll tell you. I'll tell you, okay? I promise. Hand on heart. I'm going to tell you. But I can't right now."
"Why not?"
"Because it's not the right time."
When would the time ever be right?
"What happened to being honest with each other?" She asked.
"I am being honest with you, which is why I'm not telling you anything. I can't yet, but I won't feed you any lies."
"I'll figure it out," She promised. "Even if you don't want me to."
"You'll never guess it."
Was that a challenge?