The House Above the Sea

31.

As expected, he's asleep.

Neo leans over him, and for a second he stops, the beauty of the boy in front of him squeezing his heart in his chest: Kit's porcelain skin like carved starlight, his eyelashes little brushstrokes of coal-black ink, the happy curve to his pink mouth as subtle as a wish muttered under someone's breath. Whatever he's dreaming about, it must be pleasant, and Neo's glad.

He sighs, tapping Kit's cheek with a knuckle. "Hey. Kit?"

Kit's eyelids tense briefly, but otherwise he doesn't stir.

Neo taps him again, this time with more force. "Kit."

Nothing.

"Christopher?"

Kit rolls over, turning his back to Neo.

Asshole, Neo thinks, fondly. He's totally playing with me.

Neo clears his throat, scooting closer to him. He loops an arm over Kit's body, furling their fingers together. "Babe," he says, dragging the word out, a devious smile flashing across his face. "Wake up."

He's rewarded by a small but noticeable jolt from Kit's "sleeping" form. Kit rolls onto his back, and his eyes are wide and bottomless, his face suffused with a reddish pink blush. Babe? he mouths, in horror.

"Knew that would wake you up," says Neo, scooting back to give Kit space to sit up. "What's the matter? Don't like it? I can go back to calling you dude all the time, if that's more romantic."

Kit reaches across the air mattress, fumbling around for his composition book. No, he writes. Actually, it's sorta okay.

Kit looks up at Neo with a shrug.

Now it's Neo's turn to blush. Pretending that the living room wall is suddenly much more interesting than Kit's face, Neo says, "I'm surprised you haven't asked me why I'm here yet."

I've given up trying to figure out what goes through your head, Kit tells him. It's pointless.

Neo glares at him. "Hm. Well, I was going to tell you that I figured out how to break your curse, but since you're gonna be mean about it, I guess you don't get to know—"

Neo sputters, caught off guard by the sudden latch of Kit's fingers around his arm. His gaze whips up to Kit's, and in that instant he regrets ever making light of the situation. This isn't a joke; it never was. This is Kit's life, and the raw ache in Kit's eyes tells Neo just how badly he wants it back.

Neo drops his voice to a low whisper. He says to Kit, "Lay down, okay? Let's lay down."

Kit looks at him, perplexed, but nevertheless does as Neo says, easing back against the mattress. Neo joins him, shoulder to shoulder, letting out a long exhale as he lets his body sink into the softness. The exhaustion he was holding at bay climbs up his limbs again, filling his eyelids with new weight.

"I texted Joey and Elsie," Neo says, blinking at the ceiling above their heads, the rafters exposed and aging. "They're both healthy people who actually sleep, though, so I'm not betting on either of them seeing it until later. But anyway, I told them to meet us here ASAP."

There's a gentle rustling noise—Kit's moving—but Neo grabs his hand, stopping him. "Hang on, hang on."

Kit relaxes in Neo's grip.

"We need to summon Whitaker," Neo tells him, and just as soon as Kit relaxes, he tenses again, as if every sinewy strand of muscle in his body knotted at once. "Bernie told me how to do it. Well, sort of Bernie. It was actually in that book Maeve gave us, but Bernie translated it. But anyway, once we summon him, then..."