A Beautiful Torment

46. Prepare

The days before the equinox drifted by in a blurry haze of warmth and happiness. My heart felt light, weightless in my chest, and whenever I caught Wyatt's eye in the hallways or walking in the garden, it soared. I felt untouchable, invincible, and stronger than I'd ever felt before. Not even a house full of psychotic demons could undermine my new found confidence.

Romeo accompanied me to my dance lessons every afternoon, and I became much more proficient at the steps as his partner. Halldis' barely concealed dislike of me, coupled with her stern expression, had been holding me back, but with Romeo, it was easy. He murmured inappropriate jokes in my ear and made me laugh, and when he saw the happiness radiating from my skin, he whispered, "Congratulations," and my face, stretched taut from smiling so hard, began to ache.

More visitors began to arrive, filling the dining room each night, until the entire house was alive with the murmur of voices. Wyatt and I were permitted to eat our dinner in our rooms, so we picnicked outside on the balcony each night. At first, I'd been worried that Wyatt would revert back to being adamant that we couldn't be together – that he didn't feel that way about me – but while we'd lain in bed that night, he had brushed my hair back from my face and half-smiled, a strange expression crossing his face.

"I'm an idiot," he'd whispered.

I'd giggled under my breath. "Why do you think that?"

"Because I didn't know what it felt like." His eyes had burned into mine, such a vivid, chrysocolla blue, and I'd felt my breath hitch in response. My body had been alive with the gravity of his tone, but apprehension had stuttered through me. Was he starting to regret it? Was he pulling back from me?

"Wyatt –"

"No, let me finish." He'd touched the tips of his fingers to my lips, silencing me. "I know what it's like to want someone – physically. And I know how to be your friend. And that's what I thought it was – I wanted you and I liked you but I never thought I..." He winced, like he was frustrated with the order of his words. "When I... when he turned on me, in that split second, I realized that I was nothing to him and I was never going to be. But it didn't hurt me like I thought it would, at least, not like her defection hurt. But then I thought about how he wanted me to torture you, and... I knew that I'd rather die than make you hate me. Because I need you, and I'm terrified that one day, you're going to wake up and –"

"You're right," I'd interrupted, pushing his hand away. "You are an idiot. I've stuck it out this far; what makes you think that I'm going to leave you now?"

"My own parents didn't want me," Wyatt had pointed out, frowning.

"Well, I do," I'd said simply.

His eyes had narrowed in frustration. "You're fourteen –"

"So are you."

"In a few years –"

"— I'll be older and I'll still be in love with you." I had smiled and flicked his nose.

He had cocked his brow in disbelief – but I could see the glimmer of hope, the elation brewing in his eyes. He'd been starting to believe me. Slowly, a teasing smile had spread across his face, and my stomach fluttered in response. "What about Lorenzo? Don't think I didn't notice your pre-occupation with that stupid show."

I had slapped him playfully, an embarrassed flush rising in my cheeks. "Shut up, you moron. Like you weren't completely star struck over Cleontine earlier."