The Touch of Demise │18+

23: The Flower

DEMISE

"I gave you a flower."

Demise didn't ebb the scowl from his face as he settled Grace back into bed. He stood straight as she pulled the blanket over herself. He remembered what she was referring to. She had left him that flower and he had someone throw it away. It wasn't because he didn't appreciate it.

His eyes wandered to the area next to her on the bed. The covers were tussled and not made as it had been when he left. He knew immediately that the maids had not been in here to clean even though they were tasked with it. 

"You slept in here."

Brown eyes looked at him. He almost gave in right there and reached to hold her. His hand flexed beside him. She looked embarrassed, her eyes darting away from him. 

"It helped me to sleep."

He's never helped anyone do anything. He had always been the reason for such distress. It shocked him to the core. 

"You issued a Rogationem."

Her voice was hoarse and meek, probably from the coughing and in part from her nerves. 

"I did."

"And then you left?"

His brows knitted and he felt his heart drop in frustration. "Not because I didn't think you were my mate, or because I didn't want you, or because of whatever else you may think."

He watched as she laid down, her head on that soft pillow gazing up at him. Grace never looked at him, it was always a gaze like she couldn't quite believe he was here. Like he was her world. Like she couldn't fathom that he was hers. 

And fucking hell, he was hers in every way. "The flower," he started. "Would have died."

"What do you mean?"

Rounding the bed, he went to the window and opened it to the tree that was standing proud outside. He knew she was watching intently. Part of him wished she wouldn't. He didn't want her to watch. He reached a palm out to cusp a leaf from the Oak. 

He heard her gasp as the leaf wilted into his palm, browning and wrinkling between his fingers. His touch was death. He couldn't look at her then. 

"The flower would have died," he repeated. "I wish I could be around foliage, but you see it's impossible and I don't want to harm the Earth."

He heard her sit up. 

"Demise?"

His back went rigid. He still didn't turn back to her. 

"Come here," she ordered as dominantly as she could. But Grace was a soft, kind soul. Her voice was a cloud that held the sun and even though he could hear that tilt in her voice, it wasn't enough to make him listen. 

"Demise, come here." 

Now that time was more forceful. He held back a sigh, going to her, sitting on the bed. His eyes remained downcast and off her.  

"If you want a garden, I'm going to get you a fucking garden."

He couldn't help the slight grin that turned on his face. 

"You have such a green thumb, Grace. It's calming to me."

"It is?"

A rough grunt escaped him. "You have what I can never and if anyone would, I am glad it is you."

A nimble hand grabbed his elbow and then climbed up his bicep as the other went to his forearm. He'd be lying if he said the slightest touch made him forgo any restraint he had left. Her touch gripped his heart, tugging just enough to cause discomfort from not being with her wholly. He cursed himself.