"I will chastise you for that later," he said, "and you will not be able to escape l from it either."
Aine laughed, bright and unguarded, the kind of laugh that arrives before you can stop it. "You still lust even in this situation and condition?"
"You are becoming contumacious," Jokull said, his eyes glinting with something that was almost warmth, "in the very last days of your nineteen year old life."
Aine blinked. "Oh."
"Yes."
She studied him for a moment, something soft moving behind her eyes. "You always have your ways of putting things."
He did not respond with words. Instead he leaned in slowly, deliberately, and lowered his lips to her ear.
"Happy birthday in advance," he murmured. "I may not see you tomorrow."
Before she could respond he pressed a small box into her hands, smooth and unhurried, as though it were the most natural thing in the world. Then he stepped back, dipped his head, and pressed his lips gently to her cheek.
"Bye, Aine."
She looked at him, the box warm in her palms. "Bye, Jokull." A beat. "And thank you. For everything."
He turned and left without looking back, which was perhaps the kindest thing he had ever done for her.
Aine stood for a moment in the space he had vacated. Then she turned.
Ravi was still by the table, phone face down now, his full attention settled on her. He moved toward her with the particular ease of a very tall man who has learned to carry his height gently, shoulders rolling forward just slightly, closing the distance between them with unhurried, certain strides. He reached up and pulled his mask down and what it revealed was a smile, bright and unguarded and entirely real, the kind that reached all the way into his green eyes and stayed there.
Ravi reached her and looked down at her with those green eyes still lit from his smile, but something else moving behind them now, something quieter and more serious.
"You never told me you were turning twenty tomorrow."
Aine glanced away. "Sorry. It skipped me."
"Don't give me that." He tilted his head, studying her the way he always did when he had already seen through whatever she was offering him. Then something shifted in his expression and the teasing returned, deliberate and a little clumsy, as though he were trying on a language he had only just borrowed. "You look bodacious as beauty."
Aine stared at him. Then she laughed, short and surprised. "Where did you get all of that from?"
"I just learnt from the way J.K spoke to you."
She looked at him for a moment, something fond and helpless moving across her face. "Don't worry," she said softly. "I like you just as you are. Cold and ready and possessive."
Something in his expression settled at that, as though the words had reached somewhere in him that he did not often let things reach. He reached out and touched her gently, pressing his lips to the top of her hair, unhurried and quiet, the way he always showed the things he could not quite bring himself to say.
Then he pulled back just enough to look at her.
"I know you will not be happy with this," he said. "But we are leaving for Paris."
Aine's brow drew together. "Why?"
Ravi held her gaze, steady and certain, the way he looked when a decision had already been made in the deepest part of him and nothing in the world was going to move it.
"I have made up my mind," he said. "I am dropping out of the dark world."
Aine looked up at him, her voice firm but wrapped in something gentle. "No, Ravi. I am not against you. So far as you are doing this for yourself, I am doing it for you too." She held his gaze. "In love we must cope with each other."
Ravi's jaw tightened. "I mean it, Aine. I cannot risk you the way I did before. I will not."
"But Ravi—"
"Please." The word came out quieter than everything that had preceded it, which made it land harder. "Let this slide."
Before she could find another way in, the door opened and Hayland appeared, took one look at the two of them and immediately began retreating.
"Ravi, oh, sorry. I did not know you were busy with her."
"Let's go," Ravi said, already moving.
Aine turned to look at him, something between disbelief and exasperation crossing her face. "I cannot believe you are being rude. It is just Hayland."
He turned back to her, crossed the distance between them in two strides, and gave her a swift, decisive kiss before she could finish the sentence. Then he turned and followed Hayland down the corridor without a word, leaving her standing there with the ghost of it still on her lips.
Hayland's office had the particular atmosphere of a room that had witnessed a great many serious conversations and chosen to remember none of them. Hayland dropped into his chair and looked across at Ravi with the easy familiarity of a man who had long ago stopped pretending any formality existed between them.
"When it comes to partnerships," he said, opening his arms with theatrical certainty, "I am always his first choice." He pulled Ravi into a hug with the confidence of someone who knew it would be tolerated.
Ravi let it last exactly as long as he decided to. Then he took Hayland by the shoulders and shoved him backwards onto the sofa with enough force to make it clear he was enjoying himself, landing him against the cushions in a graceless heap.
"Move, man."
Hayland laughed from the sofa, entirely undignified and entirely unbothered.
Hours later the table was set and the kitchen had gone quiet. Aine looked down at the meal in front of her and something in her expression softened without her permission.
"I like this," she said. "This meal."
Hayland leaned back in his chair. "Ravi prepared it."
Aine went still. "Ra… vi.