Drawn to You

Chapter 9

It always annoyed Liv that in some of her happiest moments, she forgot herself completely, lost in a warm haze of contentment. She wished she had more of those moments to cling to, to revisit when things were sour, but even keeping a regular journal didn't help. Her first diary was the young girl cliche, complete with ineffectual golden lock; she had kept the keys to every single one she was given and later used them in her personal charms. Then she graduated to sketchbooks when she got more invested in her art and now that she spent so much time on the road, she had a private blog, visible only to her closest friends and family. Whether it was paper or pixels, though, it never seemed like there were enough words or images to capture the incandescence of her happiness.

She was pretty sure, though, that she would never forget the slow, steady transformation in Rhea from angry confusion to... well, at least relative calm. Liv wasn't sure Rhea was ever totally at peace, since she was so driven by concept of more, not enough; she seemed far steadier than she had when she arrived at Liv's door, though. Finn had texted once, which undoubtedly helped, but Rhea seemed soothed by the simple actions of taking purchases out of bags and examining them. She had asked questions that Liv thought were surprisingly astute, and the witch did her best to answer in a way that was accurate but wouldn't jeopardize any supernaturals in the company. While Rhea was paging through some of her new books, Liv took the chance to sneak to the bathroom and change into shorts and a t-shirt. What time is it even? she wondered as she wound her hair up in a messy bun before heading back into the main suite. The curtains were closed, so she couldn't tell by the depth of darkness outside.

"What's in the those bags?" Rhea asked when she returned, pointing to the last two bags by the wall.

Liv had missed a few bags at first, but Rhea was enjoying the magical Show & Tell session so much that she brought over most of them—but she had tried to keep the bag with the massage oils out of view. Now there was nowhere else for it to hide. Should have taken it into the bathroom with me, she thought, trying to think of a feasible lie. "Oh, nothing interesting. Just some toiletry stuff," she said airily, sitting back down on the bed. "I need a snack. Want to get something from room service? The cafe's probably closed and I don't feel like putting on shoes...."

Rhea narrowed her eyes. "That sounds like a diversion tactic." When she chuckled, there was a hint of wistfulness in it. "What, is my birthday present in there?"

"No. Your birthday is still months away!" Liv never even thought to mention that they had broken up. Why would she worry about getting a present for someone who had dumped her?

"Ah. Probably granny panties then," Rhea said with a sage nod. Before Liv could reply, Rhea hopped off the bed, grabbed the last two bags, and peeked inside. "Candles? Well, I mean, they can be fun," she allowed, "but these look like the type you use in your circles when you're purifying stuff."

"They... are." The observation took Liv aback. Once she had told Rhea about her nature, Liv had shown her a few rituals, hoping that would make her feel more comfortable. Rhea clearly had an interest in the occult, but Liv thought it was more about the imagery than the actuality of it; she hadn't realized Rhea had paid so much attention to what she was doing. "I left a couple of mine by a window and they melted, so I was running low."

"Do they have to be Fathoms candles," Rhea asked, pulling a slender blue taper out of the bag, "or can they be from the grocery store?"

"Either's fine; the magic is in the person, not the item. I just like supporting my fellow supernaturals. A lot of them make supplies for a living," Liv explained, trying not to stare at the bag with the massage oils, "so I try to buy from them. It's a bit more expensive, but the quality is better and I know I'm helping a person, not a corporation."