Page 83 of My Faire Lady

She refreshes. Still nothing.

In the kitchen, the kettles whines, and I push away from the chair. Nesbit glances up from her nest and stands, stretching out her body. Her feathers ruffle, shifting all the way to her tail, and she lets out a small chirp as she pads toward the desk.

I watch, mouth agape, as she paws at Lottie’s leg. Lottie smiles, scooting out the chair, and Nesbit wiggles her back end, hopping onto Lottie’s lap.

“When did you two become friends?” I say, pouring the boiling water over two bags of earl grey.

She scratches Nesbit under the chin, and the creatures purrs, eyes rolling into the back of her head. “I may or may not have been giving her extra treats for the last month.”

I feign a gasp. “That’s cheating.”

“Aw,” she coos to Nesbit, scratching behind her ears. “Is Scarlet mad because you like me more?”

Steam wafts from the mugs as I carry them back to the desk. Nesbit leaps from Lottie’s lap, padding back to her nest of twigs and dry grass.

“Traitor,” I say under my breath.

“You’re just jealous.” Lottie smiles and wraps her hands around the tea, sighing at the warmth. “If I don’t win this contest, at least I’ve won Nesbit over.”

“Refresh again.”

She sighs and taps at the keyboard. The page disappears, and the website struggles to load, the bar at the top frozen. I lean forward, my heart a pebble skipping against my ribs. Lottie’s chest stops rising, eyes pinned to the screen.

It loads.

My heart processes the words before my brain does.

She slaps a hand over her mouth.

“Lottie,” I breathe, an ache stinging the back of my throat. “You did it.”

She jumps from the seat and throws her arms around me, burying her face into the crook of my neck. Tears stain the edge of my collar. My stomach somersaults, but I wrap my arms around her, settling them on the small of her back. My fingers tangle in the laces of her corset, her mind running too fast to bother changing out of her garb once the faire ended.

Every curve of her body molds perfect to mine—mirrors of each other. Twin flames. As if we’ve always existed like this, two halves of the same whole. I press my face against her temple and pull in a deep breath, begging the fates that I’ll never forget the way lavender is woven into her hair and inked onto her skin.

She did it. She won.

A chasm opens in my chest. Too soon, I’ll never hold her weight in my arms again. With time, the image of her smile may fade from my memories—the tune of her voice drifting away like a warm summer breeze.

But I can live with it, because what is love, if I don’t let her go?

I would never be enough to replace a lifetime of freedom.

Arms hooked around my neck, Lottie leans back, far enough for our gazes to catch. Tears brim the edges of her eyes.

“I’m so proud of you,” I whisper, my thumb tracing the boning of her corset.

She blinks, and something shifts behind her eyes—so imperceptible, I’d miss it if we weren’t close enough for our noses to brush. My pulse skitters beneath my skin, and I hold my breath, waiting for her to untangle her arms from my neck.

She freezes, as if she’s doing the same, waiting for me to pull my hands from her waist.

But we’re frozen in time, and if I knew of a rune that could stop the earth from turning, I would cast it, just to memorize the flakes of ember in her brown eyes.

“Scarlet,” she whispers, tangling her fingers into my nape.

A shiver skates down my spine, and my breath catches, bottling in my chest. Her gaze roams my face, holding me still as her eyes land on my lips.

“I’m so, so tired of holding back,” she breathes.