Illusory

Chapter 17

"Is this what you wanted to show me?" I asked as I stepped into the kitchen. The entire first floor was pitch-dark except for this room, lit by what had to be hundreds of candles spread all around. Every inch of counter space but for the center island was covered in brightly burning candles, and the sweet smell of vanilla filled the air as a result. Only two tall candles burned in the center of the island, both dripping melted red wax onto the steel surface. A white ceramic plate set to either side of the candles, laden with what looked to be lasagna, which just happened to be my favorite food. I crossed my arms over my chest and rolled my eyes. "Really, Van? What are you trying to pull here?"

"I just wanted us to have a nice dinner together," he told me, leaning against the island with his arms crossed casually over his chest. He was wearing his best black suit and his best calm mask. "Sort of like a date."

"Do you really think this is the best time for us to be on a 'date'?" I asked, somewhere between aggravated and homicidal. "You just told me that you won't teach me magic anymore. I've already punched you in the face twice. I will do it a third time."

"I know, I know," he said, "and I don't blame you. To be honest," he went on, turning away from me to stare at the lasagna, "I had this planned out before I told you. I was originally going to wait until now to tell you."

"You were going to tell me that I couldn't learn magic anymore...over a candlelit dinner?" I couldn't believe a word of what I was hearing. Just…Just…Seriously?! "Enjoy eating by yourself, Van," I spat, spinning on a heel and starting back toward the stairs.

"Wait, wait," he said, rushing to grab my wrist. "I know that wasn't the best idea. That's why I didn't go through with it."

I glared up at him. "So, instead, you wanted to tell me first, completely devastate me, then have a romantic dinner with me? How does that make any fucking sense?"

He sighed, and I could see in his eyes that he knew that he was just digging himself deeper and deeper into this hole. "It doesn't, I suppose. But I've already made the food and lit all of these candles. Won't you at least sit with me for long enough to eat and enjoy this for a moment?"

"Fine," I sighed, though I still glared up at him. "But don't expect much good to come of this. I'm not happy with you, and I probably won't be for a long, long time." I jerked my arm from his gentle grasp and stormed over to a stool, where I promptly flopped down and dug into my lasagna with the fork lying next to my plate.

I heard him sigh again, but he said nothing as he sat down on the stool across from me. He began to eat his own food, and I felt his eyes on me between the melting red candles. "You know," he finally said, unable to hold his tongue, "I don't think it's very fair of you to be mad at me."

I stopped eating and straightened to my full height on the stool. My glare now was so icy that I was surprised the candles weren't melting my eyes. "And how is that, Van?"

"I could've lied to you," he explained, his eyes dropping to his food as he picked through it. "I could've given you other reasons as to why I couldn't teach you, reasons that wouldn't have hurt you so much until you found out the truth. I could've simply avoided the subject altogether and kept putting you off whenever you asked to learn something until you finally grew suspicious of me. I could have done something other than told you the truth like an adult. Doesn't it count for something that I did tell you the truth?"

I dropped my fork onto my plate with a loud clatter. "No, Van, that doesn't count for anything," I snapped, and I could already feel tears beginning to well up in my eyes. "You said you didn't trust me to learn magic anymore before you said anything about not teaching me. You could've just told me that you didn't think it was a good idea and just gone on from there, but you didn't."