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“Are you awake?”
Judging by the sleepy grunt, Delvyre knows the answer is probably no, but she can’t stop the rabbit-footed pitter-patter of her heart, so she shifts a little closer now, linking her arm through Gale’s and pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder — and then parts her lips a little and bites.
He lets out a muffled yelp, then turns his head towards her, blinking the sleep out of his eyes.
“I certainly am now,” he says, but there’s no annoyance in his voice. Only a soft sleepiness.
“Sorry.” She pauses and rests her cheek on his arm. “I had a very terrible dream.”
He doesn’t answer, but instead moves, lifting the arm that she clings to so that he can wrap it around her. She adjusts too, her head now resting on his chest. She can hear his beating heart and feel his warm skin and smell the faint scent of lavender.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“I’m still deciding.” Her head feels heavy, like her mind is still swimming in the dream. She clings to him a little tighter, trying to pull herself awake. His fingers gently card through her hair and she sighs, sinking closer to him. And then, in a small whisper she adds, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have woken you up.”
“On the contrary,” says Gale, “I’d feel quite guilty if I found out tomorrow that you had a terrible dream and did not stir me from my slumber.” He keeps his voice light, continuing to stroke her hair. Sometimes his fingers catch in the tumbles of curls, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Instead, he patiently twists his fingers in and out of her hair, not ever tugging too much.
Delvyre’s eyes flutter, quickly adjusting to the darkness. She knows that even when Gale’s vision adjusts, it will be much darker for him, since his human eyes can’t see through the shadows like her own. So when she watches him now, it’s a small private show. She can make out the curve of his brow and the slope of his nose, the way his long eyelashes brush against his cheeks. She wants to trace her fingers down his face, memorize the way he feels, so that she knows what it’s like even if she closes her eyes.
She moves, as if to lift her hand, but then at the last moment decides not to. He’s still just waking up, after all. And he can’t see as well as she can. And, also, if he decided to turn away, she does not know how her heart will take it.
“I must say this is a first for me.” Gale chuckles, breaking the silence. “It’s not as if my previous lover was capable of dreaming. Or even sleeping for that matter.” He pauses, then adds, “It’s … unexpectedly nice.”
“Is it now?” Delvyre finds herself laughing along. It’s a bit louder than she wants, so she clasps a hand to her mouth, burying her face in the side of Gale’s arm again. “I can’t say I’ve been woken up on purpose before. Usually just accidentally.”
“Ah, bad snorers? Tossers and turners? Sleeptalkers and sleepwalkers?”
Delvyre lets out a noise, something caught between a sigh and a laugh. Then, she grows quiet. She closes her eyes, listening to the sound of Gale’s beating heart, and she pinches the fabric of his sleep shirt, rubbing it together between her fingers. Maybe Gale notices, because one arm wraps around her a little tighter, though he waits for her to speak before he says anything.
Finally, she shakes her head against his chest.
“Usually they’re leaving. Or trying to leave before I notice.” She pauses, trying to bring some mirth back into her voice, but it fades away. “But I usually do.”
Gale is silent. Delvyre feels her throat close slightly, and she worries that maybe she said something wrong. She knows she’s disposable, a fun time but not a long time, a passing fancy, a drunken night out at a bar, or a sweet summer romance. But come morning light, come autumn, they all leave.
“Well, that’s ridiculous,” Gale says after a moment. “I don’t know why anyone would leave you. I certainly wouldn’t. Absolutely a mistake on their parts, I tell you.”
That’s when she falls quiet again.
“That was my dream, you know,” she says slowly. She can feel his eyes on her, can make them out in the dim light, all warm and brown, crinkled in concern. But she doesn’t look at him. Just somewhere off in the distance.
It’s easier that way.
“Well, not all of it,” she continues. “Some of it was more or less what we’ve been facing so far. Typical stuff of nightmares, I suppose. Giant spiders, cultists, shadow curses, you know. But the end bit… I dreamed that we did it all. We stopped the Absolute. We got rid of these tadpoles. And then at the end of it all, I was alone. Just me again.”
She doesn’t say what really terrified her, that Gale looked at her dingy little flat and her unorganized heaps of books and decided that maybe the idea of her was better than who she actually was. Maybe he realized that her too-loud laugh and her wild hair and her bad dancing was just too much. She worked better as a dream, a story, not someone to take home.
That’s what everyone had told her. Before.
“Alone?” Gale’s voice is soft. His hand comes to rest on the side of her shoulder, his thumb brushing against her bare skin. “How did that come to be? Did we all perish save for yourself?”
“We survived. You survived. And then you left.” She feels her lip quiver and she hates that it does, that despite everything she’s taught herself, everything she’s been through, everything she’s steeled her mind to brace, her body betrays her.
She’s spent so long telling herself that it is okay. That so long as she never has anyone worth losing, she does not mind when they leave.
“I left?” Gale sounds surprised. And Delvyre knows that it’s silly. It’s so silly that the nightmare that shook her awake was something so mundane. They’ve faced Mindflayers and cultists and giant spiders and gnolls, and none of that made her flinch.
Instead, it was an empty side of a bed.
“Sorry. It’s stupid,” she stammers and starts to shift away from him. “I shouldn’t have woken you for that.”
“No – no. Stop that.” His voice is firm as he reaches to pull her back to him. He turns so that now they are facing each other. She’s not sure exactly what he can see in the darkness, but she sees his warm brown eyes looking right at her.
“It’s not stupid,” says Gale. “Tell me more. Tell me how I can help you, my darling.”
“It’s – it’s nothing.”
“Del.”
Slowly, she lets out a strained breath like she’s washing a cut. He reaches to touch her face, brushing his knuckles against her cheek.
“Everyone I’ve loved left me,” she says, softly. “They decided – they didn’t want to be with me anymore. They never loved me the same way. I was too much. Or too little. I was good enough for a fun summer, or for some wild nights out. They promised me things then. They told me I was different . Their muse, or something like that.” She snorts. “And I suppose the minute I wasn’t that, well, they didn’t want anything to do with me.”
And I didn’t want anything to do with me , she thinks. She doesn’t say that though. It’s not entirely true. Delvyre likes herself for the most part. She likes her wild hair and her loud laugh and her sharp mind. She likes her messy flat and her eclectic collection of books and the way her eyes glimmer when she casts Fireball. But after years and years of people leaving her for those exact things, she sometimes doubts it.
Still, if no one else will love her, she will love herself.
At least she has that.
Her lower lip trembles again.
Gale cups her cheek. He leans forward, kissing her gently on the forehead, then the tip of her nose, before brushing away tears. She hadn’t even realized she’d started crying.
“First of all, I am not going to leave you,” Gale says. He states it like a fact, like he’s reciting the components of a spell or reading out the street names in Waterdeep or naming constellations in the night sky. “How could I? You’ve pulled me back from my darkest moment, extended a hand to me when I teetered at the precipice of losing myself. You are the most beautiful being I’ve ever met, in body, soul, and mind. You have my heart in your hand for as long as you should want to hold it.” He pauses. “And believe me, I do understand if you do not want to hold it for much longer after this.”
“I want to,” she insists immediately, reaching to press her hand over his heart. She can feel it beat beneath her fingertips, warm and steady. “I’ll keep it safe for you.”
He reaches to lace his fingers through hers.
“And I promise I will do the same for you, my love.” His brow creases. “I know this may sound like the same pretty words you’ve heard before, but Gale of Waterdeep does not make promises he cannot keep.”
He lifts her hand to his lips and kisses her knuckles, keeping his eyes trained on her. “You’ve told me you’ve loved me and proven that time and time again. So forgive me for deflecting your kindness right now – I mean only to reassure you of my love for you. I will repeat it over and over till you believe me.” He kisses her fingertips. “I love you, Delvyre.” Another kiss to her palm. “I love you.”
Her lips tug into a small smile, and she lets out a soft exhale of laughter. He continues.
“I love you.” He shifts closer and kisses her on the forehead again. “I love you.” This one is on her cheek, brushing away the tear stains. “I love you.”
She giggles now, ducking her head down, but he manages to capture her lips in a kiss. It’s soft at first, gentle and reassuring, but she grabs his collar and pulls him closer, their lips parting as the kiss deepens. Gale pulls away slightly, but only so he can whisper one more time, “I love you,” before pressing a small kiss to the corner of her mouth.
Delvyre dips her head towards him, so that their foreheads meet. She can still taste him on her lips. The fear that gripped her heart and shook her awake has subsided, replaced by a soft warmth that spreads across her chest. She feels – safe.
Despite the dangers that await them, despite the terrors that they’ve faced, despite the uncertainty of the future, right now with Gale, Delvyre feels safe.
Safe. And sleepy.
It is late. They are awake when they shouldn’t be, no thanks to her. But even though she woke him, Gale held her close and he whispered that he loved her and even now, when his eyelids flutter and he clearly strains to keep them open, he holds her tightly. And she knows if she asks, he will stay awake.
The realization almost makes her cry. In a good way this time.
Instead, she smiles, and leans to kiss his cheek.
“I think I can fall back asleep now,” she whispers.
“Are you certain?”
“Absolutely.”
Gale looks at her, eyes heavy with sleep, but he does not drop his gaze.
“I won’t leave you, Delvyre,” he says.
“I know.” And when she speaks, it’s with a certainty she’s unfamiliar with. The words feel different in her mouth. She likes it.