Despite the What Ifs running through his own mind, Ambrose couldn’t help but smile. “Hmm.”
The younger vampire shivered. “Darnation! Why you gotta make that kind of sound so close to my ear?”
Ambrose’s smile grew.
Robin isn’t trying to get away from me. He must have liked it. “Sorry. I just noticed how wet you are.”
Robin released him and sat back with a wary expression on his face. “What?”
“Your clothes. From the rain.”
Ambrose got off the bed. “You should change into something dry.”
“Why should I? You thinkin’ I’m gonna get sick?”
“Of course not. But Raven will pitch a hissy fit if he finds out you went to bed like that. He’ll probably make you wash your sheet and blanket.”
“Stupid dumbhead. Ain’t nothin’ but clean rain.”
“He won’t see it that way and you know it.”
“Hurry up. Before your day exhaustion kicks in again.”
Ambrose headed towards the door.
He glanced back. “What?”
“You’re like 69,000 years old, right?”
“Wrong, but continue.”
“Do you remember?”
Ambrose turned to fully face him.
“You remember what it was like to live in the daylight?” He bowed his head. “I don’t know if I do.”
Ambrose returned to him.
“I feel like I’ve spent my whole life with this dang darned blasted day exhaustion. But I know that ain’t right. I know I went swimmin’. Went hikin’. I remember all that. I just can’t remember not livin’ like this.” He lowered his gaze. “I can’t remember the sun ever feelin’ good on my skin.”
“It’s all a part of the change. One of those small things we vampires lose, we have to lose, in order to survive.”
“Ambrose.” His voice was quiet and uncertain. “Will he want me? Will ‘sellta really wanna be with me? I’m vampire. He’s fey. Two different mindsets. Two different creatures. Are we too diff’rent?”
Ambrose sat on the bed. “What do you think?”
“Okay, fine. Try it this way: Close your eyes, Robin.”
“Visualize Isellta. The shape of his face. The color of his eyes. The shape of his nose. His lips. His smile. The way his hair frames his face. See his neck, Robin, and how the line of it curves into his shoulders.”
Robin smiled. “Yes. I see it.”
“The length of his arms. The delicacy of his wrists. His fingers. The width of his chest. The color and texture of his wings. The shape of his legs. His feet. Do you see him, Robin?”
“Good. Look at him. Ask him if he wants you?”
“Do you want me, ‘sellta?”
“And what does he say?”
Robin exhaled sharply. “He don’t say nothin’. He just runs to me. He’s happy. So happy. My Isellta. His wings are beatin’ so doggone fast. Stupid fey.” He laughed softly. “He’s huggin’ me. He whispers in my ear, ‘yes’.”
“Then, there’s your answer.”
Robin opened his eyes.
Ambrose smiled. “So, change your clothes and go back to bed.” He kissed Robin’s forehead. “And sleep well.”