Page 67 of Something Worth Keeping
Julian smiled. He reached out and caught Cillian’s wrist, feeling solid flesh over barely contained void.
“Not here, dear,” Julian said pleasantly, loud enough for the terrified businessman to hear. “You need to wait until he goes into an alley. There are children present.”
Cillian’s gaze never left the man, who had gone white as paper. “He hurt you.”
“Barely. Minor shoulder contact. It certainly doesn’t warrant immediate dismemberment in public.”
“Dismemberment?” the man squeaked.
“Wait for the alley,” Julian repeated, patting Cillian’s arm. “We talked about this. Public spaces are for intimidation. Actual violence requires proper disposal logistics.”
The shadows receded incrementally. Cillian’s form solidified back intosomething approximately human-shaped, though his eyes stayed black.
“Apologize,” Cillian said flatly.
“I’m sorry!” The words tumbled out. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was…I didn’t mean to…please don’t…”
“Apology accepted.” Julian tugged Cillian toward the coffee shop. “Have a better day.”
They left the man standing on the sidewalk, staring after them with the expression of someone who’d just glimpsed their own mortality.
Inside the coffee shop, Cillian pulled Julian into a corner booth. “Are you sure you’re alright?”
“Perfectly fine. You, on the other hand, nearly violated our ‘no public displays of eldritch horror’ rule.”
“He touched you aggressively.”
“He bumped me while distracted. It happens.” Julian caught the barista’s attention and ordered their usual. “Though your reaction was very gratifying.”
“You’re not upset that I lost control?”
“You didn’t lose control. You made a tactical decision to intimidate a threat, then listened when I asked you to stand down.” Julian squeezed Cillian’s hand. “That’s progress.”
The barista brought their drinks - black coffee for Julian, something with an absurd amount of foam for Cillian, who’d developed a taste for cappuccinos since their courtship.
“I like this,” Julian said after a moment.
“The coffee?”
“All of it. Working with people who value what I can do. Living somewhere I’m actually wanted instead of tolerated.” He met Cillian’sdark eyes. “Having a mate who threatens dismemberment over minor shoulder bumps.”
“It wasn’t minor.”
“It was by objective measurement. But I appreciate the sentiment.” Julian smiled. “Though we should probably work on your threat escalation matrix. Not everything requires alleys.”
“Most things require alleys.”
“Some things. Not most.”
Cillian’s shadows wrapped around Julian’s ankle under the table, a gesture that had become a familiar comfort over the past weeks. “You’re happy.”
It wasn’t a question, but Julian answered anyway. “Yes. Very.”
Outside the window, the businessman was still standing on the sidewalk, now explaining theencounter to a very concerned-looking companion. Julian watched him gesture frantically while Cillian sipped his cappuccino with perfect unconcern.
“Do you think he’ll file a police report?” Julian asked.
“Describing what? ‘A scary man with shadows looked at me, and his boyfriend made alley jokes?’” Cillian’s mouth twitched. “No evidence. No crime. Just an unfortunate reminder that rudeness has consequences.”
