Page 21 of Something Worth Keeping
“I’m a significant entity.”
“Fair point.” Julian thought about Cillian’s manner while he continued eating. The beets arrived, and he tried them, too. “I should clarify something.”
“Yes?”
“I’ve never dated anyone seriously. I’ve had three relationships, each lasting less than four months. They all ended because the other person found me too difficult, too precise, or too emotionally unavailable.” He met Cillian’s eyes. “I’m telling you this because I don’t want you to have false expectations.”
“What makes you think I have false expectations?”
“You keep saying things like ‘the rest of your life’ and looking at me like I’m a religious experience. That suggests significant romantic idealization.”
Cillian’s shadows coiled tighter. “Julian, I am an ancient entity who feeds on corruption. My kind has existed since before human civilization. I have never wanted anything the way I want you. That’s not idealization. That’s recognition.”
“Of what?”
“My fated mate.”
Julian set down his fork. “You mentioned that at the coffee shop, and we talked about it briefly. Explain what that term means to you.”
“You’re a beacon. A beacon is a soul that resonates with perfect clarity. For Eldritch entities, finding a mate is extraordinarily rare. Most of us existin isolation. But when we find our match - our opposite, our anchor - the bond is absolute.”
“So this is a biological imperative.”
“No. Biological suggests a physical aspect. This is more all-encompassing. I prefer the word destiny.”
Julian picked up his fork again. “I don’t believe in destiny.”
“You believe in me.”
“That’s different. You’re empirically real. I can see you. You’re right in front of me. Destiny is a conceptual framework humans use to justify randomness.”
“And yet you walked into an alley at the exact moment I was there. You saw me at my most monstrous and offered me practical advice instead of running. You touched my shadows without fear. You looked at my darkness and saw something worthkeeping.” Cillian leaned across the table. “Call it what you want, Julian. But we were always going to find each other.”
Julian processed this. The logic was sound, even if the premise required accepting concepts he’d previously dismissed as folklore. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“I’m willing to accept that there may be forces at work beyond standard causality. And regardless of terminology, I’m attracted to you. Extremely attracted. In ways that are both physiologically interesting and logically confusing.”
“That’s the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me.”
“Really? That was barely coherent.”
“It was perfect.” Cillian’s hand covered Julian’s, shadows and flesh combined. “Finish your dinner. Then, because we’re at our courting stage,I will continue to pretend I’m a gentleman and I’ll walk you home.”
Julian returned to his agnolotti, but he was smiling. His guardian was definitely trying…something Julian had never had in his life before. It was a heady feeling, and he liked it.
Chapter Eight
Cillian walked Julian back through the warehouse district, hyperaware of every shadow that moved, every sound that echoed. His own darkness spiraled protectively around them both, an invisible shield against threats Julian couldn’t perceive.
“You’re very tense,” Julian observed. “More than usual.”
“This district isn’t safe.”
“I’ve walked through here dozens of times.”
“That was before you were mine.” Cillian caught himself. “Before we were courting.”
