"You said no. It was the right call."
"It was the right call. But the asking mattered. Because you weren't editing. You were telling me what you wanted even though it was messy and contradicted everything you'd said. That's what we promised. The messy truth."
"The messy truth."
"And my messy truth is that I almost said yes." His voice is very quiet. "I was standing there and you said 'stay with me' and every part of me wanted to say yes. Not because I needed saving. Because your terrible bed with the creaky frame feels more like home than anywhere I've ever slept."
"But you said no."
"Because I needed to know I could say no. That I could choose you from a position of having something of my own, not from a position of having nothing." He lifts his head, looks at me. "Does that make sense?"
"Perfect sense."
"And now I have something of my own. And from here, from this, I can choose you. Not because I need to. Because I want to."
"Month to month."
"Month to month." He puts his head back on my chest. "But for the record, oak bookshelves."
"Already ordered."
"And the reading nook."
"Window seat. Storage underneath."
"And a real bed."
"King-sized. Reading lamps. Deep nightstands."
"You've really thought about this."
"I've thought about nothing else for months."
"Liar. You've thought about Kvothe."
"Kvothe and the bookshelves. Roughly equal mental real estate."
"I'm on par with a fictional disaster wizard. I'm honored."
"You should be. He's very compelling."
Devin laughs. Then yawns. Then burrows deeper into my chest with the boneless ease of a person who's warm and safe and satisfied and in his own apartment for the first time in his life.
"Stay tonight?" he asks. Already half-asleep. "The whole night?"
"I'm already staying."
"Just making sure."
"I'm here, Dev."
"Good." A pause. One more breath, slowing. Then, mumbled against my chest: "First night in my apartment. First person in my bed. First everything."
"How is it?"
But he's asleep. Out like a switch, the way he does when he's truly safe. Not the library doze, not the alert half-rest. The complete surrender.
I fall asleep to the steady beat of Devin's heart.