Roots and Oxygen

Chapter 46 - A Conscientious Companion

Taro's eyes lit up. Sage could tell that he wanted to comment on how he said it aloud. Sage's palms started to sweat. He felt exposed just thinking about the word. Now that it had been spoken for others to hear, he waited for everything to tumble down on him.

But the longer he waited, the calmer he felt. Taro smiled at him, and Sage relaxed against the mattress. "This is not just some fling," he whispered.

"No," Taro replied. "It's really not." He shifted closer. "I know what you're risking for me. I wouldn't get this near if I didn't have feelings for you."

"Neither would I." Sage's heart pounded so hard, he felt it all over his body.

"So, you're thinking about telling your parents?" Taro asked. "You know you don't have to tell them anything now? I told you that I don't mind keeping this a secret. I'm okay with it. I quite like sneaking around."

"I'm not sure if it'll be this week or next year. I don't want to sneak around forever but . . . "

"But you have the weight of the crown on your head," Taro said, understanding what he was trying to say. "If we get caught, I lose my job, while you risk losing everything." Taro's hand touched the silk fabric on Sage's arm. He rubbed it between his fingers. "But you'll never lose me. You're likely terrified of losing your family and your home, but I know the risks of doing stuff like this with you at 2am, and I'm not only- whatever this is between us, but I'm your friend too. I'll be here for you, it's important that you know that."

"That means a lot to me." Sage felt shy under Taro's gaze and inspired by his comforting words. He wanted to tell him that he wouldn't let him get fired, and that they were in this together now, and that he was his friend too, but words often failed him. He shifted closer to Taro Vinea, the man everyone doubted as his Valet, but proved himself worthy as a friend. He turned on his side and pressed his face against the chest of the man he had kissed passionately under a tree in the storm, in secret, in darkness, in fear of getting caught.

It was worth it, Sage thought when he felt Taro's arms around him for the second time that night. It was so worth it.

He woke when the sun was streaming through the crack in his curtains, and the birds sang loud, and the workers in the garden talked loudly and freely. Sage rolled over, landing on cold sheets and a cold pillow.

He shivered and pulled himself under the duvet, his head weighed twice as heavy and his eyes couldn't stay open for long. "You smell of sickness," a voice said, closer to his ear than Sage would've expected. He peeked above his duvet. Taro knelt by his side with his chin against his palm. "A date at two in the morning wasn't our wisest choice."

Sage blinked up at him. His eyes hurt, his head throbbed, and his throat scraped together like sandpaper. "You can . . . smell sickness?"

"We can smell it strongest in other plants when they have diseases and stuff, which means we can also smell it in humans, not as strongly, but it's still there."

"What does it smell like?"

"Nothing bad."

Sage narrowed his eyes. "Well, I'm hardly sick." He forced himself out of bed and did his best not to flinch and grumble when Taro opened the curtains.

"Oh, you've missed breakfast by the way."

Sage froze. "Are you joking?"

"No. Your father came up and asked why you were still asleep. I told him you had stayed up very late last night. He wasn't phased and told me not to let you miss lunch."

"And you didn't wake me because you could smell this- this sickness?"

Taro nodded, and Sage, ill and tired, let a surge of annoyance up his throat to manipulate his tongue. "Why would you do that? Now I'm going to have to explain to them why I was up so late!"