The City of Crows by Bethany Lovejoy (novels in english .txt) 📗

neck, struggling to stay up. Groggily, I bleated, “coffee,” my hands still outstretched, desperate for more liquid.

“No, no,” his hand pressing down on my shoulder, returning me to the bed. I focused on his chest, far too weary to look at his face. “We’re not going to do that Lyra, you’re going to have to wait a little longer for that.” His hands met no resistance, and he flinched as he caught me, the back of my head resting in his hands, not wanting me to fall fast and hard against the mattress. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, and I felt like I’d heard it a few times before.

“No,” I protested, my hand waving for his attention to remain on me, “coffee.” That would fix it, that would make me feel whole again.

“We’ll make a deal, huh?” he said, somehow ignoring the way that my breath caught as he slid into view, his head tilted to the side so that he could look into my eyes once more. Did Leo not know that he was glorious? Obviously not, because he continued to talk, my brain struggling to hold onto the words as his mouth kept moving. “—And then you’ll get your coffee, alright? You just do those two things, and I promise you, a big cup of coffee when you wake up.”

Wake up?

“No,” I pleaded, hands reaching out for his face. Would he be there when I woke up? Right there where I could reach him? Or would he wander off once more, disappearing into the unknown? It wasn’t worth the risk. The amused look on his face, the quirk of his eyebrows; I just wanted to look at those. “No more sleeping, not anymore. I’ve slept so much; the night is already gone.” Days, there were only days left. How many? God, I had no idea how long I’d been sleeping, how many days did we have left?

“There will be tomorrow,” Leo reassured, his lips sticking to my skin as he pulled away from kissing my forehead, a tender softness upon his features. “And then the day after, and the day after that one. There will be time, Lyra.”

“But what about the days after those?” I blinked. My voice was high, childlike. I knew, more than anything I knew. Time was moving fast, there would not be much longer. We had no solution, and Leo would turn twenty-five in a matter of days. And then what? What happened next?

He sighed, a sadness beginning to overwhelm his features. Just as I thought, nothing had changed. His hand gripped mine, his body sinking into the space on the bed beside me, slowly working his way underneath the covers until he was there with me, his lovely heat beginning to spread out and grace the parts of me that I hadn’t even realized were cold. His eyes, mere inches from mine then, looked forward, small wrinkles showing underneath the bags as he smiled.

“Leo…” Delicately, that was the only way I could speak. This was it then, for all that I’d done and all that I hoped. Maybe the man did have a way to make Leo live, using the powers of all those he’d trapped combined. But it didn’t matter anymore, he was gone, and someday really soon, Leo would be too. There would be no more art, no more cups of tea mixed and blended by his knowing hands. No more sweaters overwhelming his form, no more hands searching for mine.

Two months had passed, now only days remained. Leo Hoang would die.

I shifted forward, my hands grasping both of his, wishing for another way, another miracle to occur.

“Why are you crying, Lyra?” He exhaled, thumb reaching forward to wipe away the drops of moisture that I felt. “I’m happy, I’ve had a good life. I’ve done things no one else can say, a great deal of them because of you. Lyra, I— Because of these past few weeks I’ve had more than a lifetime of adventure.” There was doubt in his voice, a desperate want for more, and yet he proclaimed, “I’ll be okay.”

What an awful liar.

“I’m scared,” I admitted, my legs entangling with his. Anything to draw him closer, to make it so that he wouldn’t leave. “I wish…”

“I do too, Lyra,” Leo whispered, his head reaching forward, lips brushing past the tip of my nose. “But we make the best of what time we have, we do the best we can for the people we love. Death isn’t scary, not if you make sure that the people around you are taken care of; that’s what matters.” He swallowed, his Adam’s apple shifting with the motion, “we tried, and that’s all that matters. We gave it our all, we tried to find a way, and in the end, we did something extraordinary. Pat and those people, they had done horrible things Lyra, all in the name of power. And you did something astonishing that day, you put a stop to it. That’s worth death to me, Lyra. This city, the people who live in it, the people who walk on these streets and try to have normal lives; they’re worth a thousand of me.”

“Not to me,” I choked.

He smiled, his shoulders curling closer, lips touching mine, relishing in the motion. That sweetness, the sweetness that always followed Leo, filled my lungs once more. He was there, he was alive, and in that moment, he was mine.

I relished in the bittersweetness of his touch, prematurely lamenting its loss with every breath. But it was there, and it was mine. For that moment, his dark eyes were mine, and I could memorize the way they looked open and closed, his long lashes fanning out onto his cheeks. For that moment, his soft, albeit damaged, lips were mine, and I could cling to the way that the scent of lavender and jasmine transferred to mine. His arms were my home, bringing me closer to the fire that burned within his chest. His long, straight