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In my head, memories rose up, unbidden and unable to be tamped down again-
‘A hotel lobby. A figure sitting alone at the bar. There is something in his hand, golden and glittering- a watch.’
‘I have a feeling you’re able to open a great many doors, Miss Lovett Tamerlane-‘
No. Resurfacing from the images felt like emerging from a crash of water


her remembering how they first met ❤️‍🩹

Strangely, the emptiness seemed to suit him better than either the princely condescension or the rebellious wit, which he’d worn previously; this, I felt certain as I regarded him, was my first true glimpse of the younger Alaire.

“Anyhow, Lear feels that the relationship between Silkwitches and Weavers is unequal-that we take from your kind more than we give. He avoids anything created with magesilk if he can help it.”

SUCH A GENTLEMAN 🥹🥹

I turned in my heel without curtsying, the stairway door my sole focus. Behind me, I heard Eliot step forward. “Lovett- wait a moment-“ he called out.
But I was too quick for him, when I raced down the turret steps, he did not follow. Only the echo of my name chased after me, fallen like a plea from his lips. ‘Lovett’, he’d called me.
Not Miss Lovett. Lovett.

Aside from his instruction, we danced in silence, the night cool and formless around us. In the darkness, I could not sense the turning of the hours; the little turret room felt curiously free of time, as if Eliot and I were a pair of swans, spinning endlessly against a black velvet sea.

She smiled, the flash of her white teeth wolfish. “Miss Lovett.”
I returned her smile, predator to predator. “Miss Tremblay.”

“I was born into this world. You have only just stepped foot in it. Every action I take, I take in your best interest. I know you are aware of this, so why punish me?”

‘Our tailor felt it would be best suited’… Though I wasn’t sure why, the idea of Eliot Lear describing me to a member of his staff made me feel… Was it shy?
Surely not. I was flattered, that was all, my anger lessened by his apology.
Yet when i raised my fingers to my face, pressing them against my skin, I was disturbed to find that I was smiling.

“I think-“
Abruptly, he stopped, the sunset tracing the sloping lines of his profile so that his features were glazed in hot orange.
“I believe it is his way of making things up to me,” he admitted a second later.

“Neither of us is a good person. It is why we are so well suited.”

“I love you,” he said, and it felt like a phrase he’d uttered a thousand times even though I’d never heard it before. He said it like it was a part of a grocery list, like it was greeting, and a good night, and a promise all in one.

He began to hum to the music inside-and I recognized it, finally.
It was the starlings’ melody.
“Come on, Eileen.”

A part of me wondered if I should just get in my car and go. I would just be a chapter in his life, anyway, perhaps not even that. But it was a good chapter. A lovely paragraph. A blissful mention.

I felt my stomach twist, my heart burn. Was this what it looked like, true enduring love? Because it was something that I couldn’t describe, something that i had next felt-not once-in my life. And I wanted to. So, so badly.

-before I curled my knees up to my chest and buried my face in them.
“I just want to stay,” I muttered to the empty loft, but the only answer was silence.”

“Year after year after year, books that ferried me through heartbreak and hope and those terrible nights after Liam left. They were words that tucked me into bed at night when I was alone, they were words that played the soundtrack of my heartbreak, the what-ifs, the second-guesses, the nights I sat alone and wondered, Why not me?”

“You didn’t-you didn’t give your car to Frank to fix mine, did you?”
“You have people waiting out there for you,” he replied, and that was all the answer I needed.

“it’s just a dream, though. I doubt any bank would loan me that kind of money.”
“It’s a good dream,” he replied finally. “I’d be first in line.”
I smiled at him, because that was kind.

“And she knew it would work every time, because I always caved if it was something she wanted to do. I could put my wants and needs on the back burner and I’d grin and bear it and go on adventures with her. It felt better, anyway, then thinking about my own life. If I could just live in her glow, bask in it forever, I thought that would be enough.
And for a long time, it was.”

eileen talking abt her bsf 💔

“The little shit chased us across the entire field. In the middle of the night.” I took down a pot and started to fill it with water, my gaze a thousand miles away. “I still can’t walk through a field at night without hearing the ghost of a neigh.”

I didn’t know it then, but it would sate a part of my soul that had been thirsty for connection-for community-for so long, I’d forgotten to water it. I’d forgotten that in it, joy could bloom.