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I’d oh so helpfully chosen as my text tone had ensured that the mood was gone.

“Mothers always have really good timing, don’t they?” Leo said, resting his head against my hip, turning his face so that his lips pressed close, tantalizingly close, but not close enough. Still, his eyes were curious, as if asking me what she could possibly want. I supposed that made sense.

“One of those typical mother messages,” I lied. Though, Lydia Wynne had never sent one of those in her life. “I heard it was going to rain today, Lyra, I hope you replaced that old jacket of yours. Fashion is never functional,” there, that sounded closer to something she would say. Perhaps a bit too affectionate, but closer.

“You can use one of my jackets,” Leo winked.

Seven p.m. the large clock in Leo’s living room read as he prepared yet another cup of tea, the water boiling in one of those retro teapots that he told me his mother hated.

He was busy in the kitchen, scooping tea leaves from the metal tins that sat beside his sink and into the glasses before me, powders and dried flowers combining into unique blends of the drink. In another life, Leo should have owned a tea shop, though now that I’d had his coffee, I’d say he also should have a significant part of the menu dedicated to that as well. I’d asked for something to keep me up, and though coffee seemed like the obvious choice to me, he’d reassured me that this was far more preferable, there were teas with a higher percent of caffeine. I didn’t know anything about that, so I agreed, having absolute faith in him.

We’d watched one movie, just as I’d wanted, but I still wanted more. A whole day was not a whole day when I happened to sleep until noon, and the tiredness that consumed my body was a frightening developement. I’d hoped that Leo’s tea would bring me back to reality, back to him. I needed to stay awake. Tomorrow, god knows what I’d feel, but today? Today I wanted to be Lyra, and I wanted it to be me with Leo just a moment longer.

“Lost in thought?” he asked, pouring boiling water into my cup, but not his. He picked up the coaster that his was meant to sit on, turning it over so that it sat atop my cup and to keep the steam from escaping. Apparently, this was meant to steep longer at a certain temperature.

“Just thinking about you,” it was the truth, though he couldn’t know why. Leo was a consuming force.

“That’s a little worrying,” he said, taking in my expression. He leaned over the counter, his forearms taking his weight as his hand took mine within it. His fingers danced across mine, as if he was inspecting them for a moment, an almost wistful look slipping across his face.

“We’ll figure it out,” I promised, leaning forward to press a kiss against his cheek.

“Mhm,” he agreed, withdrawing from me, his eyes drifting back to the cup of tea beside us. His hand played upon the handle, contemplating for a moment.

“Is it ready?” I asked, an eyebrow raising.

He looked at me, his head turning just slightly to the side. Emotion, I wasn’t sure what it was, appeared and quickly disappeared from his face. He sighed, the air seeming to come from deep inside him as he removed the lid, scooped the strainer out, and pushed the cup towards me.

I smiled, trying to reassure him as I took the tea, inhaling the scent that floated up from it. It stung my nose, but I didn’t think much of it. His eyes were on me, worry still painting his face as I took a long sip.

The liquid was thicker than usual, though I’d not seen him put in any milk or honey. It had a lavender after taste, yet a bitter taste when it first hit my tongue. Immediately, my eyes began to water. Still, I forced myself to take another sip. Then, when his hand rose to mine as I began to put it down, another. And another, and another; finishing the cup quickly. Awake, that was all I needed to be.

Visible relief settled over Leo’s face as I finished, which was the first thing that cued me off. “Are you okay, Leo?”

He stiffened, turning away from me, his shoulders squaring as he regarded his kettle once more. “Yeah,” he said, pushing the kettle away from the burner.

Strange, but not concerning. Leo went quiet sometimes, it wasn’t supposed to be a cause of concern. But now? I was worried.

I grabbed my phone, after having dressed for the day I stowed it in my back pocket. Maybe it was better to busy myself. Rowan’s message still sat in the corner of my screen, unread. A part of me wanted to open it, a part of me didn’t.

I looked up at Leo’s frame, his shoulders rising and falling with every breath. It was best to get it out of the way while he was turned around, I supposed. My thumb reached for the message icon, the screen taking a moment to load.

Rowan’s familiar face came into view, smirking from the icon. Beside him, a single message, my eyes scanning over it once but not really taking it in. Again, they went over it, then again. Over and over, until finally I understood. Ask Leo.

My eyes drifted back to Leo, mouth opening to do just that. But then, I felt it. The heaviness, the fog and something else that you don’t realize until you’re far too near the brink. “Leo…” I began, my voice just as off-balanced as I was starting to feel.

“Yes, Lyra?”

“I don’t feel good,” the world came to a crashing stop.

22

Goodnight, Lyra

Strong arms caught me before I hit the ground, a grunt resounding through the thick haze that had begun to overwhelm my senses. Lavender, that was the main thing I could see, a purple

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