Part 1220 – One Last Dance

Barbara ran her fingers through his black hair. “You better get home before the sun rises.”

I want to stay with her.

I don’t want to go home.

Why can’t I just stay?

I want to go home with her.

Sleep on her couch while she sleeps upstairs in her bed.

We’ve done it before.

Why can’t we do it now?

Because.

We can’t.

“I will. Be careful, Barbara.”

I could go with her to protect her.

“You too. Don’t get staked.”

The temptation would be too strong.

I know it.

I can feel it, just from standing close to her.

Ambrose took her hand and kissed the back of it. “I’ll be careful. I promise.”

I just want to stay.

“Good night, Barbara.”

But I can’t.

“Good night.”

I know I can’t.

***

Barbara watched him walk away and all of her wanted to run after him.

I want to tell him I’ve changed my mind.

I want to run into his arms and feel his embrace.

I want him to hold me and kiss me.

I want him to take me dancing.

I want.

I want…

Ambrose stopped and looked back at her.

She ran to him and hugged him tight. “I love you. Oh, I love you.”

“Barbara.” He nestled his hand into the back of her hairstyle.

“Ambrose. My Ambrose.”

He kissed the side of her face and murmured against her skin, “Dance with me.”

She raised her head.

He smiled. “One last dance as Barbara Addleston and Ambrose Smith. For, come Sunday, we’ll be Barbara and Ambrose Smith.”

“Okay.”

They assumed the position and they waltzed in front of Sammy’s Place.

Ambrose softly sang Jessica Simpson’s ‘I Wanna Love You Forever’. It was far from the best cover of it.

Barbara didn’t care about the small details of strained notes and botched lyrics.

She barely even noticed.

She was too busy being swept off her feet by the man she loved.

***

Robin sat on his bed, rubbing his damp hair with a towel.

He was shirtless and his feet were bare, but he had taken the time to pull on his underwear and lounge pants.

Isellta stole into his mind.

Robin scrubbed harder as if he could scrub Isellta out of there.

But Isellta stayed.

Isellta looked at him with blatant curiosity.

“My name is Isellta.”

His shoulders slumped as Olessa laughed at his suggestion.

 Isellta approached Robin. His mouth was set in a sad line, but he did not speak. He unlatched the muzzle and unbuckled the mouth guard. He gently touched the warm, soapy towel to Robin’s open facial wound. He dabbed it, cleaned it. He was so gentle it almost felt good. Robin watched him, waiting for him to apologize, to say something. Anything. Isellta held his silence. And Robin held his.

I want him.

His blond hair.

His long, blond eyelashes.

His gentle voice.

His long, skinny body.

His big, black wings.

His arms.

I wanna curl up in his arms and feel his breath in my hair.

He stopped his hair scrubbing and flopped onto the bed.

Darn it all!

I want so much more than all that.

Robin thought about the hurt expression on Isellta’s face right before he disappeared.

He thought about Isellta crying on the phone.

His heart ached.

I wanna love him and let him feel that he’s loved. I ain’t sure how long a fey’s lifespan is, but I want all his days with me to be fang-rottin’ happy and sweet. I want us to be so happy together we’ll bug everyone around us with our lovey-doveyness.

Darn it.

Darn it. Darn it. Darn! Darn! Darn!

DARNATION!

“Why ain’t it Sunday now?”

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