Black Diaries

35. Endangered Fairies

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Reaching out, I drew aside the window curtain right beside the bed, and blinked, gazing out over the moonlit, glittering city of New York.

"You know," I murmured, "I think you might have missed that meeting of yours."

A chuckle came from behind me.

"I think you're right there. So what? Wasn't very important, anyway."

"Really?"

His hand, his long-fingered, capable, strong hand touched my back, gently caressing. "Well... not in comparison to you."

A warm feeling spread inside me. But a moment later, I bit my lip, feeling guilty. "I don't want you to miss work because of me, Elliot. I know you're an important man, with important work to do. If I'd thought that I'd kept you from—"

"Don't worry about it," he cut me off. His hand took firmer hold of me, and turned me around, forcing me to look at him without any barriers between us. He looked like a dream from a darker, more poetic universe. The moonlight lit his body in smooth planes and hard, cool lines.

"I may not be able to give you everything you want," he murmured, touching my face. "But I'll always be here for you. Always. Never doubt that, Cassidy."

"I just..."

"Did you hear me? Never doubt it. Never."

I nodded.

"Answer me. Did you hear me?"

"Yes, Elliot. I heard."

He nodded with satisfaction. "Good."

"You've certainly been there for me for the past... how many hours have we been at it?" I smirked.

"I'm not exactly sure."

"You have one of those fancy watches that gives the time in Honolulu and measures how long it has been since you last brushed your teeth. Can't it tell you?"

He chuckled again. "I'm afraid it doesn't have an automatic feature for that, no. But there is one thing I know without a fancy watch." He pulled me to him, kissing the crown of my head. "I don't regret a single second of it."

We just lay there for some time, basking in the moonlight, and each other's presence. It was some time before something crept out from behind the back of my mind to bother me and break the spell of perfect peace. But eventually it did, and I shifted.

"Cassidy? What's wrong?"

"God! You're too perceptive for your own good."

He smiled for a moment, but then his face became serious again. "Tell me. Is something bothering you?"

"It's just..."

"Yes?"

"Oh, it's nothing really."

"Cassidy...!" There was a note of warning in his voice.

I looked down, chewing on my lip. "Really, it's nothing, I promise. It's just... That article..."

For a moment he didn't even seem to know what I was talking about. Then I saw a lightbulb go off in his head. "What? That thing from this morning?" He waved his hand, derisively. "It's gossip. Garbage. Just forget about it."

"Is it?" Lifting my hand, I gently stroked it down the side of his face. "Garbage, I mean? What about the passage saying you never went out with anybody—never! Was that garbage, too?"

The reaction was instant: his face darkened, closed, almost seemed to freeze. His sensual lips pressed together into a tight line. I felt a sudden urge to reclaim them, force them open with my kiss, make him open. But I didn't.