Mina winced. Magnus immediately paused.

"Too hard?" he asked. "I'm sorry."

"No," she assured. "Keep braiding."

Magnus nodded, continuing to weave baby's breath flowers into Mina's hair. Since she couldn't pull at her hair, she twisted the string of her apron around her fingers so tightly that they turned white. It hurt, but at least it kept her hands from shaking.

"We should go out one more time," she forced out, fighting to hide the strain in her voice. She prayed that he'd shut down the idea and that would be the end of it.

Magnus chuckled. "I'm starting to think you're more eager to get out of here than I am."

Mina bit her lip harshly. "We could go somewhere different this time. Not to the city."

"Go on," Magnus urged. She could feel that he was almost done with the braid.

"The Turgiac Grove out west. Have you ever been there?"

"Maybe when I was a boy. That's the one with the Thyst trees, right?"

She nodded once she felt his hands leave her hair. "They're...fun to climb."

Magnus settled on the couch next to her and began to put on his boots. His eyes gleamed in amusement. "You want to sneak out again just to climb trees with me?"

She twisted the fabric tighter around her fingers, ignoring the screams of her body to stop. "Yeah, it's stupid isn't it?"

He shook his head. "I'm not complaining. I'm happy to do anything with you, but you know my schedule is tight."

She nodded, feeling a little lighter. "Then, never mind. It's not important anyway."

"But if you want to, I could try to find the time. It's not too far away, right? We could easily walk without a cart."

The heaviness immediately returned to her chest. Why did he have to be so cooperative? "Yeah..."

He smiled. "Then I'll see what I can do."

She forced a small smile. "Great."

Magnus picked up a coat that was slung over the arm of the couch. "This doesn't look too wrinkled, does it?"

Mina shook her head, but her mind was already elsewhere. She noticed he had a couple paintings laying out, one she had seen before and one newly completed. She picked up the former, her heart pounding as she looked at it under a new light. It was the one of hands resting on the field of capo poppies.

"That's us, right?" she whispered, tracing a finger over the gold stained hands.

Magnus nodded, reaching for her hand and holding it close. "That's us."

"Look at that, I've been your muse since the beginning," she murmured. Her heart skipped a couple beats when she felt him press a light kiss to her temple.

"Always."

He was always careful with his touches, but she was a complete stranger to this kind of affection. Maybe in different circumstances she would be able to reciprocate.

Still holding his hand, she set the painting down and looked to the one currently propped on his easel. "You finally finished that one."

He nodded. "I did. It helped me process everything a little, I suppose."

The finished piece depicted not one, but two hands holding a rose. One hand gripped the thorny stem tightly, while the second hand was gently placed on top of the other. Blood smeared both hands but the flower itself bloomed bigger than everything that lay beneath it.

"It's beautiful."

"Again, credit to you," Magnus said with a smile. "Always bringing out the best in me."

Mina pursed her lips. She felt the sudden urge to cry but forced it back, not wanting to look stupid over something so small. She didn't know if she'd ever get used to the tenderness. Maybe she wouldn't have to if everything went according to plan. She cursed at herself again. All of this was her own fault.

"Well, I'd better get going," Magnus sighed.

He pressed a kiss to her hand, but she hung on longer when he tried to let go. He paused, looking back at her with quiet curiosity. "Mina?"

"Mag, I...I have something for you."

With shaking hands, she drew the bird carving from her pocket and held it out to him. He didn't say anything for a while, looking back and forth between her face and her gift resting on her palm. Slowly and reverently, he took it into his hands, imagining how her steady touch formed the little songbird from nothing. Every detail was exquisite and clearly thought out, from the swooping tail feathers to the sleek curve of the beak. On the underside of the base were the letters MAJIC.

Mina fidgeted, the silence getting to her. "I'm a little rusty, and I'm no professional, but I just wanted to make something for you since it's your birthday coming. I know you've probably seen much better but it's the best I could do. It's supposed to be that bird you always paint. I don't know what it is, but I thought you might like it but I don't even know if I got the tail feathers right or the wings—"

"Mina, Mina," he cut her off, smiling brighter than she had ever seen before if that was even possible. "I love it. It's perfect."

She looked up at him shyly. "Really?"

"Really."

To her delight, he moved straight to his mantel, moving aside the other decorations—trinkets, framed drawings, things that had clearly been there for a while—to make space for her carving. He placed it right in the center like it had always belonged there. Like she belonged there.

"It was supposed to be a birthday gift," she murmured as he glanced back at her. But you might not ever make it to that day.

"Just couldn't wait to show me, hm?" he teased, taking her hand and pulling her close again.

He leaned in slowly, carefully watching her movements. She didn't pull away, her breath hitching as her eyes drifted to his lips for a fraction of a second. But he knew how to read her. As her eyes fluttered shut, he kissed her forehead instead.

"I love you. Thank you so much."

With her eyes still shut, she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him closer, listening and feeling his steady heartbeat. Even when he had to leave, she tried to hold onto that warmth, but she could already feel it slipping through her fingers.