Lustful Alchemy

33. SHARP*

Her smile twirls in a whirlwind of emerald and silver fabrics as she moves from one person to another: wizards and witches eager to meet her, alchemists congratulating her on Albus's success, wise intellectuals engaging her in lively conversations. Her white teeth shine in the night, with a dazzling happiness like her enthusiastic gaze, darting through the crowd, searching for mine.

I stand on the sidelines, enjoying her evening: this is the moment for Cassie to receive all the praise she hasn't been able to enjoy until now. I am a spectator to her success, a role I realize I am comfortable in. Just seeing her happy is enough to make me happy too.

I find myself smiling to myself at the thought, as the wine in my glass grows warm, and my eyes follow her mane of dark curls and her sun-kissed skin slipping between bodies as gracefully as a fish.

And in the moment her gaze meets mine and she approaches me, I feel the muscles in my face soften until her smile leaves room for nothing but her light.

«What are you doing here all alone?» she asks, coming closer than the norms would allow. Though, given the adjoining tents we've been assigned as lodgings, I doubt our intimate encounters are really that secret.

I shrug and take a sip of wine. «I'm enjoying your success,» I reply.

Her eyes sparkle, but she brushes it off quickly. «It's not just mine.»

«Albus's too, you're right.»

She rolls her eyes at my joke, but I know exactly where she's going. And precisely because of this, I want to focus all the attention on her. She then says, «You should join the celebration, Aesop. You deserve all this too.»

«But I'm fine here.» She raises an eyebrow with a comical expression of suspicion that makes me smile even more, and I continue, «I don't care about celebrating. It's enough for me to see you doing it, finally enjoying the success and esteem you deserve.»

Cassie also knows I've pushed far beyond my usual limits with a line like that, but she grants me the grace of not mentioning it. However, the blush on her cheeks, different from her sunburn, is something she can't hide.

I place a hand on her back, pulling her a little closer to me. Tomorrow, I can always blame this public boldness on the excellent wine I'm drinking. For now, everything feels right, as if every mismatched piece has finally found its place.

Her slender fingers brush against mine as I hold the glass. I loosen my grip, allowing her to take it and bring her lips to the rim. «How about... celebrating together then?» she proposes, her voice laced with mischief.

«Now that interests me more.»

We bid farewell to the crowd and Albus, who is too engrossed in conversation with Nicolas Flamel to notice us, and return to our tents. Although very few people are passing by, we pretend to enter our own tents for propriety's sake, only to meet again seconds later in the solarium.

Cassie throws her arms around my neck. «I'm so happy here,» she says, covering my face with kisses.

I smile: «I feel good too.» It's true: the weather is pleasant, the atmosphere lively, and my walk has improved significantly, the swelling around the wound visibly reduced.

As if reading my thoughts, Cass lowers her eyes to my leg and then looks back at me. «I can tell.» A shadow of reflective melancholy veils her gaze, in which I see her desire to understand the reasons behind this change, to help me in my search for a cure.

I stroke her cheek with my thumb, hoping to convince her with my gaze to desist, to not embark on a mission that is likely dangerous and almost certainly futile. I don't want to taint her hope with the disappointment and frustration I've become accustomed to; I can't allow a matter that concerns only me to darken her spirit.