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“I never said I didn’t feel the same,” Jack said harshly. “Just because I don’t see the kingdom doesn’t mean it doesn’t still exist,” Jack said furiously. “As long as one of us remembers it, it still counts. We decide the end of the game, not them. Not anyone else. You’re so stupid, August. You’re so stupid and I love you so much.”
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Jack kissed him so carefully that August thought he would fall to pieces. Kissed him with the weight of knowing the price of risk. Then he gazed back at August like his heart was already breaking.
It was the same face that Jack had made on the roof, in the middle of the night, when they rolled in the grass, when he sat back with August’s blood and ink on his hands, when his face was lit orange with flames, when he’d opened the door to Rina’s room, when he stared across the gym at the homecoming dance, when he pulled him from the river and breathed him back to life.
They were being watched, but August didn’t care. He curled his fingers into Jack’s shirt and dragged him closer. “How long?” He had to know. “August, please—” “How long have you been waiting for me?” The words tore themselves roughly from his throat.
The sound Jack made was so quiet and so desperately lonely. So August closed the last inch between them, and answered it. He ate up the noises Jack made, sweet and lush as they were, and tasted the rest of their lives. “When we are free and have healed from this, will you stay?” he gasped. “Will you stay with me?”
