His eyes seem to glow as he glances sideways at me. “Am I your friend, Deka?” “Do you want to be?” I say this part so softly, I don’t think he hears it. But then he whispers in my ear, his breath stirring the short mop of curly hair above it. “I think I’m something much better. I’m your uruni, now until the day of our deaths.” It’s the nicest thing I’ve heard in a long time.
