I wished the flowers didn't look so depressing.

Dante's sitting room was absolutely immaculate in a way that indicated he didn't clean it himself. I wasn't exactly comfortable in a space where there wasn't even a hint of casual clutter, no book out of place, and no hint that the place had been lived in at all. I felt tense and paranoid, and my gaze kept wandering to the only hint of imperfection in the room: the wilting flowers in a blue crystal vase by the window.

Poor things. The blue-white petals curled in a way that didn't seem human at all, and I didn't recognize the color or shape. They were Sylvan flowers, but they didn't like being cut and stuck inside any more than mundane ones did.

I could empathize.

The bedroom, unlike the sitting area, was a bit more of a... Well, it was a disaster zone. It was mostly a courtesy for me that the staff didn't come inside that space, as Dante knew it made me a little uncomfortable, but that also resulted in a buildup of clutter over the last few days. Granted, I didn't think it was a bad thing to have the room a little out of place, enough to tell that someone called it home, and I felt more comfortable in the bedroom because of it.

However, that also meant that I hadn't really left the bedroom in days.

I felt gross and stagnant, but I wasn't sure I cared enough to do much about it. All I'd done was research, and everything felt stifled and stuck. Just like the flowers, I was wilting, and I didn't know how to stop it.

Sighing, I walked over to the window, stroking the drooping flower petals gently. If I could help them perk up, I would. Sylvan flowers were strong. They could form roots in nothing but water, and this bunch just needed a little-

The flowers glowed in a way that looked greenish-gold, a harsh contrast to the blue tint of their petals, and raised up again. It looked almost like they'd gone back in time, but they couldn't have. I didn't have time magic. Nothing else and no one else in the world had time magic besides Calen. It wasn't a rewind so much as healing them, reviving them, renewing them.

If I really let myself go that far, I would say it looked exactly how elemental earth magic was supposed to work, but I'd never seen any for myself.

"Whoa," I murmured, examining the blooms intently as I pulled my hand away.

"Sunday?"

I jumped, so focused on the flowers that I hadn't noticed the door open. Thankfully, it was only Dante, back from his morning adventures with the Council. He slowly moved closer, head tilted to the side in a birdlike way. Apparently, I wasn't the only one perplexed by what I'd just done.

"Did you... was...?" Dante trailed off, looking from me to the flowers and back again. His wings fluttered slightly as he stared, the pattern reflecting his curiosity.

I stood and walked to the vase, carefully reaching out to trail my fingers over the soft petals. They felt fresh, new, just picked, and... I squinted at the bottom of the flowers, surprised to see stringy roots forming in the water.

"My dad is an earth elemental," I said slowly. "Maybe... I don't know. I've never been able to do that before."

"Well, it certainly wasn't me," Dante said, coming over to examine the flowers.

Dante was a skilled healer, but healing and earth magic were different things. There was some overlap, but he couldn't bring life back to previously dying plans, or encourage them to root in water on their own. This was... strange.

Good! It was good! It made me feel like I had a magical purpose in my life other than being a Weaver, and maybe even explained why I felt so drawn towards working with herbs.

It was still strange, though. Why could I do this now?

"I wonder if I could work with earth as an element more if the Threads weren't there," I mused. "Ray said something about elemental magic maybe being suppressed by the Threads, but I didn't really catch it all..."

I wished I'd pressed for more information at the time, but there were too many things to juggle at the moment. I couldn't really kick myself for not poking at my long-lost-recently-found father about magic I didn't know that I had when I was preoccupied with saving the magical world from a coup by an evil time cult.

Damn, what a sentence.

"Maybe we can speak with him soon," Dante said, plopping down on the sofa beside me, carefully shuffling his wings as he did. "We received a report from Callie- she's on the way back, and she managed to contact some special visitors."

"Special visitors?" I raised an eyebrow, unsure if I should be concerned.

"Don't worry about it." He shrugged nonchalantly, but the mischievous smile on his face had me on guard. I'd just have to wait, though. At the very least, I trusted that Dante had good intentions.

I tugged on the sixth sense that let me see the Threads, half out of curiosity and half for comfort. When I couldn't sleep, or if the nightmares woke me, I liked to watch the Thread growing between Dante and I. It grew stronger every day, growing from a few strands into a coiling, braided rope that looked so very distinct. Anyone with half a grain of sense could tell that this was more than a tenuous connection. It wasn't as hefty as the cord between Calen and I once was, and that irked me to a degree, but the fact that Dante and I were still forming our own Thread was enough to quiet my mind most days. It made me feel safe.

It made me feel like, no matter what the Threads showed, I still had a choice in my fate.

"You keep... staring," he said gently. "Is something wrong? Is it the Threads?"

No. Something was not wrong. If anything, something was right, but I was afraid to tell him. I didn't want Dant to feel any pressure in this relationship. I understood all too well what it meant to feel pressure from Threads, to be boxed in by your own predetermined path, and I never wanted him to feel like he had to be with me.

"We're forming our own Thread," I said slowly.

"What?"

"It's... Threads do form on their own sometimes, without me doing anything at all. It's normal."

"Is that... good?" he asked, tone carefully neutral.

"I think it is," I said softly, suddenly self-conscious. My shoulders hiked up to my ears and I looked away, twiddling my fingers. Maybe I'd been wrong about what he felt.

"It's just that, well... I wasn't sure how you'd feel about that after your experience with Calen-"

Oh. Oh, shit, I hadn't even thought of that.

"What?! This isn't the same at all!" I stuttered. "It's- this Thread hasn't been there all along. It formed because we worked for it, because we wanted to be close to each other."

Dante visibly relaxed, taking a few steps

He didn't have to say anything. I understood what he meant, felt the relief in his posture, and I mirrored him. He didn't want the Thread to make me feel unsafe, even if he wanted it himself, and for that I would always love him.

To the end of my days, I'd love him.

"Sunday," Dante muttered.

"Mm?"

"Don't take this the wrong way, but when was the last time you showered?"

I jumped back, cheeks flaming. In truth, I wasn't sure. I'd been preoccupied with reading, researching, and trying my hardest to find a way to get rid of Calen once and for all. I slept when Dante came back to the room at night, but... poorly. I was tired and hopeless and anxious, jittering like a chihuahua in a thunderstorm during the day and waking up every couple of hours at night.

So... No, I hadn't showered in a few days. It was embarrassing, but I just hadn't taken the time. I hadn't remembered in the face of so many other things that seemed infinitely more important.

"I've been, um... busy," I murmured, wrapping my arms around my chest.

"I know," he said sincerely. "I also know how you feel about being clean, though, and if you haven't showered... When was the last time you ate something?"

I blinked.

Shit.

Technically, I could have gone down to the kitchen at any time to ask for food. I knew where it was. I could also have asked for a member of the castle staff to bring me something to eat. It just hadn't crossed my mind, though. I felt anxious all the time, sick to my stomach half the time, and too tired to eat anything the rest of the time.

"That's what I was afraid of," Dante grumbled.

"You're not going to kick me out now, are you?" I mumbled. I meant to make a joke, but I just sounded nervous.

"Do you think I would?" Dante's mouth dropped open as he pulled back slightly.

"No," I conceded. "You're too sweet for that."

"I do pride myself on my charm." He rolled his eyes, but he did gently grab my hand, urging me to follow him. "Come on."

"I thought you weren't kicking me out," I mumbled, shaking my head.

"I'm not," he said gently. "I'm kicking you to the bathroom. You'll feel better and sleep better when you're clean."

He was right, and I hated it.

I didn't really want to bathe, but I knew that was a symptom of my own declining mental health and increased stress. I'd feel better after, and I did need a good scrubbing down.

I grumbled something unintelligible even to myself as I shrugged, shuffling towards the bathroom. Dante laughed and leaned over to kiss my cheek.

"I'm going to grab you something to eat," he murmured. "Be back soon."

"You don't need to worry about that," I sighed, heat rushing to my cheeks.

"I'm not worried. It'll only take a minute." Dante shrugged, a cheeky smile on his lips.

In the end, I was grateful, even if I was embarrassed that I hadn't been taking care of myself properly. It was understandable, sort of? There were so many things happening that I didn't want to do anything but curl up under the blankets and hide from them all.

I had to eat to live, though, and Dante was right: I would feel better when I was clean.

I shuffled through the doors to the bedroom, scanning over the mess with some embarrassment. Objectively, it wasn't too bad. There were clothes on the floor, the bed was unmade, and books sat on tables in piles rather than neatly on the shelves, surrounded by scribbled pages filled with notes in my handwriting. There was one empty mug that I'd drained of hot chocolate the night before, but otherwise there were no dishes, no food, and nothing unsanitary- nothing even dusty.

However, compared to the professionally cleaned and straightened sitting area, it looked like a tornado had gone through, and it made me uncomfortable. I wanted to clean it myself, but would the staff find that insulting? They did a wonderful job, but I'd made the mess, and there was something cathartic about cleaning it myself.

I vaguely thought about the mess I'd also managed to make over lifetimes with Calen, and that was enough to make me groan out loud. I still wasn't sure how to fix that, and decided to focus on my bath insidead.

Dante's massive sunken tub was probably my favorite luxury in the entire Sylvan Court, but before I could enjoy a soak, I needed to scrub down. I stripped off my clothes and tossed them in a laundry basket at the side of the room, grabbed a washcloth, and stepped down into the tub to start making myself feel like a real human again.

The hot water did wonders on its own, reminding my tense muscles that they were capable of relaxing as I scrubbed at my skin with one of the many bottles of soap on the shelves around the tub. I couldn't see the grime, but I could feel it- layers of sweat from stress dreams dried over my skin, oil from days of not washing my face, and odor from staying in the same clothes for too long. My hair was limp and dull, and though I didn't have the energy to fully apply my color treatment at the moment, I was glad to be able to wash it.

By the time Dante returned, I'd washed my hair and wrapped it in a towel, scrubbed my skin clean, and sat in tub refilled with clean, warm water.

"Can I come in?" he asked, peeling gingerly into the bathroom.

I pulled my knees to my chest to cover myself a little, but I nodded. There weren't bubbles floating on the water to hide me, and I wasn't exactly feeling attractive or appealing at the moment, but... I didn't mind him being there. In fact, it made me feel warm inside that he wanted to check on me.

He came closer and placed a bowl filled with fruit and nuts at the side of the tub, taking just a moment to smile at me before he averted his eyes.

"Eat," he urged. "It's not much, but it'll do for now. We'll get you a real meal after you're clean."

"Thank you," I murmured, hesitantly reaching for a grape.

I didn't realize how hungry I was until I started to eat. All the legends said not to eat Sylvan food or risk being trapped forever, but now I wondered if it was because the food was supernaturally delicious.

... No, I'd been eating Sylvan food since I arrived. It was just good because I was supernaturally hungry, and I really, really liked fruit.

"I'll give you a little privacy," he said quietly, seemingly satisfied that I was eating.

"No!" I spoke a little too quickly, eyes wide and half choked on a walnut. "I... I'm not sure I want to be alone."

I couldn't be alone right now. I just... couldn't, especially not knowing he'd only be on the other side of the wall. Though he hesitated for a moment, Dante nodded, and my shoulders slumped as I sighed, relaxing again.

I couldn't be alone and in my head, not at this moment.

Dante perched on the ground, cross-legged beside the lip of the tub, gaze carefully away from me and wings gently fluttering behind him. I was still learning how the different patterns of movement reflected his emotions, but I couldn't identify this one. I reached for his hand, glad when he squeezed back.

"So... are you getting in?" I asked quietly, not sure if I was joking or not. Something about adding Dante into a situation where I already felt warm, comforted, and safe just made sense, but it was also a particularly vulnerable situation, and I wasn't sure if he'd want something like that.

"Baths are a little hard on the wings," he said, shrugging. "Takes forever for them to dry out after they soak up all that water."

Huh. It made sense, but it made me wonder...

"How many times have you done this?" I muttered, only half conscious that I'd spoken aloud.

"Specifically this?" he murmured, a low laugh slipping out. "I can't say I've ever brought anyone food after I booted them towards a bath. I'm not known for being a doting partner."

I blinked, genuinely surprised. Dante had been absolutely nothing but sweet and caring to me. I couldn't imagine a relationship in which he'd be seen as cold, though... Well, I had seen glimpses of his formal persona. It was a little intimidating.

"You... but you always dote on me," I said slowly. "Or, maybe not doting, but you're caring.

"Maybe it's because you've done the same for me. It's been since the beginning, too, since before we were... this," he admitted. "I don't feel like the effort is one-sided. Most people look for friendships or relationships with me for benefits."

"Well," I said slowly, "if it helps, I'm most interested in the benefits of your excellent snuggling. And I think the only benefit Callie wants is someone she can actually beat at chess."

Dante laughed, surprised.

"I'm not that bad at chess!"

"Keep lying and I'll splash you," I teased.

Our laughter echoed around the tiled room, and something about it felt healing. There was still a ways to go, but I felt refreshed like I hadn't since before coming to the safe house. Things weren't normal by any means, but they felt right again, even if only for a moment.

"I... think I should get out now," I finally said, shuffling a little. "Are there... um... towels?"

"Yes!" Dante stammered, practically jumping to his feet. He rushed to the cabinet on the wall, still obviously trying not to look at me, though he... Well, he sort of had to in order to bring over the towel.

It was adorable that he was trying this hard to be considerate. I shuffled a little closer to the wall of the massive tub to create some cover and give both of us a little breathing room as he came back over, practically holding the towel in front of his face.

I adored him. That was all I could think in the moment. He was flirty one moment and awkward the next, smart and polite, and considerate of everyone he met.

Dante draped the fluffy towel around my shoulders as the water drained, his cheeks adorably flushed as he turned his back for a moment. After I adjusted it and tucked it in place so it wouldn't fall, the towel fell all the way to my knees, almost like a dress. I took the towel off my hair and shook out my damp, purple curls, awkwardly clambering out of the tub before I realized I was... still damp and wearing a towel.

"You can turn around now," I mumbled, wrapping my arms around myself for security. "Not exactly a ball gown, but I'm covered."

Dante must have noticed the chagrin in my tone, because he walked over and kissed my forehead, brushing my hair behind my ears as he did so.

"There is no reason for you to feel self-conscious," he said, shaking his head. "You're beautiful."

I hugged him without thinking about it, without caring that my hair was wet or that this could be considered a strange moment. Dante's wings fluttered rapidly for a moment as his arms flailed, but he ultimately hugged me back with almost crushing force, his head resting on my shoulder and breath tickling the skin of my neck.

It was a perfect little moment in time, and I thought it was always what I wanted in a... well... what were we, anyways?

We were together, but we hadn't really discussed it. Were we lovers? Dating? Partners? Roommates? Was there some other word I couldn't think of?

I wasn't sure it mattered, but it did matter at the same time. More than anything, more than a label, I needed to know that we were on the same page.

"Earlier, you... you said partner. You weren't known for being a doting partner," I said carefully, unable to meet his eyes. "It almost feels silly to ask about labels, but I... wonder," I finished sheepishly.

He pulled back a little, enough that I could look into his bright blue eyes as he spoke. He seemed calm, almost pensive, as he spoke, one hand playing with the ends of my damp hair.

"There's a word in Sylvan, but it's... difficult to translate," Dante said, brow furrowing for a moment. "It's not inherently romantic, but it encompasses both friendship and romance. It means something a bit like 'someone whose strangest pieces fit together with mine.' Larrinae."

"I like that," I whispered.

It felt good. It felt like something important without the overhanging pressure of anything familiar.

"I'm not sure there's a human label that fits everything I want this to be," Dante said slowly, "but I promise you that I'm not planning to go anywhere. I'm not looking for a fling. I want this to last."

"Me, too," I sighed, practically slumping against him. "I... I do love you. You don't have to say it back, though."

"I... want to, I just..." Dante winced, biting his lip. I wasn't sure what held him back or what he couldn't talk about, but it would come with time. I trusted him to tell me one day.

"It's okay," I soothed. "Nothing changes for me."

Dante kissed me hard on the mouth, and I let myself melt into him without a second thought. I felt secure, and though it stung a little that he wasn't quite ready to say that he loved me, something about calling me larrinae, about the idea of another half that fit into place... that meant just as much.

It was so easy to let my hands slide along his skin, to press myself against him so tightly that I thought I might be able to hear his heart beating... if mine wasn't so loud, of course.

I could feel it, though. I could feel the pulse along Dante's lifeline, spurred on by my sixth sense of knowing exactly where his Threads were now, exactly what they were tied to, and exactly where they would lead... if I wanted to look that far.

Admittedly, I was a little scared to look too far ahead. I didn't want to see a future where we were apart. Hell, I hated knowing the future because of the Threads. It made good things seem far too fleeting, and at this moment, I wanted to focus on how we felt in the here and the now.

"We should... probably stop," Dante rasped, catching his breath. He didn't let go, though, still holding me close, his hands over the towel so it wouldn't fall.

"We don't have to," I murmured. "If you want."

My voice shook, but I wasn't afraid of Dante. I was afraid that, after all this, he might not want me. I didn't know if I could be enough for him, if we really went together as well as I thought. He said he wanted this to last, and I did, too... but there was still a niggling fear that he might push me away.

I didn't need to worry about that, though.

"You're sure you want this? Right now, with me?" he murmured, pulling back just enough to get a good look at my expression.

I was.

The heady sensation of arousal hadn't taken over my good sense, wasn't suppressing a desire to flee or badly covering reservations. Instead, I was calm in a way that felt almost surreal. I just wanted to have him close. I wanted Dante, my Dante, as near to me as he could be in every possible way, and I never wanted to let go.

I wasn't worried about saving myself for anyone, and I wasn't holding onto my virginity out of pride. It was more out of fear, out of the fact that I'd never let myself get close enough to anyone to want to go this far or be this vulnerable with them.

"I'm sure," I said, a small smile on my lips.

His hands on me were a wash of synesthesia, colors and sensations that were both mine and not mine flooding my senses. I could feel his touch, but I could feel the Threads, too. I felt them tangling around us, winding together in a way that felt somehow cozy, firmly bound without restricting, pulled together without a cage. We could let go, if we wanted to. Our Threads could pull apart.

We chose to stay together.

The choice in itself was powerful, the idea of choosing over and over to stay. If fate had a hand in our meeting, then we'd strong armed it to this point. It wasn't supposed to bring us here, to this, but we'd worked for it. We made this happen. We chose each other.

I didn't even notice when I started crying.

They weren't bad tears, and I wasn't in pain. Being with Dante felt wonderful and beautiful in a way that was overwhelming. Holding him was like coming home, like slipping into something beautiful and inevitable that I never wanted to end

It did have to end, of course, but at least it was a pleasant end. A broken sob slipped from my mouth as Dante hugged me close, and I felt his heart pounding in time with mine as our breathing calmed. He stiffened when he heard my cry, shuffling to look me over, almost like he expected to see an injury.

There wasn't one. He was gentle in all things.

"Are you hurt?" Dante asked. He pulled back slightly, brow furrowed and eyes wide. "I'm so-"

"Not hurt," I sniffled, waving him off as I scrubbed at my face, feeling a little awkward and exposed. "I'm good, just... emotional..."

"Oh, thank the Moon Goddess," he sighed, shoulders slumping. "You had me worried."

"Come here, please."

I opened my arms for him, and Dante snuggled in next to me without hesitation, pulling me close as his fingertips traced patterns I couldn't recognize on my back. I relaxed against him on instinct, humming unconsciously like a purring cat. One of his soft butterfly wings draped over us both, almost like a blanket.

We were safe. We were together. In this moment, nothing else was more important.

Even if things didn't work in the future, even if it all fell apart, I was grateful for this moment with Dante. In a way, it made me wonder what beautiful moments I might have missed by ignoring everyone that wasn't my "soul mate." In another way, it made me happy that I'd be able to experience many beautiful moments now, on my own terms, with a love I chose to fight for.

"How do you feel?" Dante asked, gently playing with my hair.

I knew he probably meant physically, and it was kind of him to check, but this was all I needed. I was already falling asleep, warm and overjoyed to be next to him.

"Safe," I sighed.

Before I fell asleep, I reached out again to look at the Thread that connected us. It glowed brightly, the weave strong and complex, and I hoped it would only grow stronger from now on.

Fate had a part in my future, but my choices and intentions had just as much weight... if not more. No matter what, I intended to stay with Dante, to make this work, to choose to be there for him and change the hand that I had been dealt. I didn't need magic to make that choice, either. I just needed the strength to step off the certainty of a predetermined path.

And, in the end, I knew I'd like a life with Dante much better than anything the Threads had led me towards so far.