Wild ​Reverence

by Rebecca Ross

“You are parchment, ink, cloves. You are water dripping down stone, and the smoke of a burning scroll. You are something deeper, darker still. Something I am not sure how to describe, which means you came from the realm far below. The only place I have never been.”

When Vincent held out his hand, mine moved to take it. This time it was a smooth meeting, as if I had touched him a hundred times. As if I could have found him in the dark.

She was not mine by spoken vow but something deeper. Something that felt older, stronger, darker, like a language that had been sung centuries ago but had now been forgotten. Something that simmered in the blood, calling to me, calling to her.

But I had discovered that the greatest magic happened when I trusted it, wholly.

My home is your home. My arms are a haven for you to rest. My last name is yours if you desire it. I will love you to my grave, and even beyond it, when the mists welcome me, when I am hopefully very old and gray and grouchy and have spent the seasons beside you when you are here and dreaming of you when you are gone.

We were doomed, she and I. One day, I would perish, and she would live on, endless as the stars. But if we were doomed, then let us fully embrace it.

“I would wait a thousand years for you,” Vincent said. “If you asked me, I would wait for you until only my bones remained upon an altar. But if you must leave again, then let me follow you, Red.”

Kill me now. I’m wailing.