The Cupid Touch

The Cupid Touch Chapter 24 - The Closing Net

I didn't sleep all that well. Lying wound up in Joe's arms didn't stop my mind starting to drip-feed me images of that guy outside the club. It would start with a squeeze of disbelieving worry that Joe-Moe could have been responsible for killing him, and a hope that he had survived. And then it would bounce from there to the vivid memory of him looking at me through the car window, while I met his eyes and knew for certain that he'd caught me out. And then I'd think about telling Joe, which would bring out a more insidious fear: that he would insist I had to go away, and that in missing him from a distance I'd kick off that magnetic process and lose him forever. The fear of it would lead to hoping that maybe the guy with the gun wouldn't survive, and then I'd feel terrible for thinking it, which would lead me right back to the beginning.

Even when I did sleep, it was fitful and interrupted. At six I crashed out of a weird dream where Axel had been told to kill me by Lucas and decided he'd better do it. I was too wired with the adrenaline of seeing Joe-Moe's brother point a gun at me to sleep again, so I gave up and extricated myself from under one of Joe's arms. He was snoring very quietly, his mouth all slack and totally not-sexy. It was hard not to find it adorable, which was another reason for making a sharp exit.

I pulled my clothes on, a little bit smug about quite how much they'd ended up scattered around the room, and brushed my teeth (with Joe's tooth-brush, which he'd told me to use the night before - cue worry about having bad breath without realising it. I hate being an idiot about that kind of thing). After that I retrieved my phone and started browsing the morning news while the coffee-machine heated up, leaning against the counter and giving my calves a stretch at the same time.

There was, as always, a lot that was wrong with the world. CNN's website was leading with a shooting, and I couldn't even bring myself to read about Syria after the first two paragraphs mentioned two thousand civilian casualties this week.

I was looking for something more cheerful to read when I caught sight of a starry image on the side-bar that I knew well.

It made me feel weird to read the headline: "Astronomers Confirm Nearby System Going Nova."

I clicked through to a too-brief article about Eta Carinae, and wasn't surprised to see that one Dr. Brandon Larsen was quoted in it.

"It's a very exciting occurrence," Dr. Larsen comments. "This is by far the closest supernova we will have witnessed, with the potential effects on the Earth's atmosphere itself, although they are unlikely to be noticeable to ordinary people. It's not an apocalypse scenario."

I could imagine how smug he'd sounded when he'd said it. It was quite hard not feeling like I hated Axel's boyfriend just then, which was not even slightly rational.

It's not you and Joe, I tried telling myself. But as I looked at pictures of those two stars, one blazing brightly and close to self-destruction, I couldn't help seeing the two of us torn apart. It felt like the floor I was standing on was falling.

I jumped when I felt a pair of hands slide around my shoulders. Joe was sleepy and warm, and it did a lot to cut through the chill on my skin.

"It's too cold to be up," he muttered into my ear.

"Look at this," I said, and held the phone up where he could see it.

"Didn't I tell you I don't do reading before ten am?" he asked, but he took the phone, coming to stand next to me with his arm around my shoulders.

"Oh, neat," he said. "You feeling all excited about it, astro-geek?"

He looked at me, sidelong, and I could tell he remembered what I'd said at the observatory.