Let Me Find Your Omega - Ashe Moon Page 0,55

widely.

“Hi,” he said. His face seemed more pale than usual. He smiled back at me and went inside before I had a chance to kiss him. I followed him and shut the door behind me.

“Was Elise here?” I asked.

“I sent her home early,” he said, walking over to the table where he kept his tea stuff. “Would you like a cup?”

“Sure,” I said. “Why’d you send her home early? Everything alright?”

He nodded. “Yes, I just needed a break today. Is that an Elforian lily?”

I remembered the plant I was holding. “Oh, yeah. It’s for you. Now you can have something to remind you of me that doesn’t involve tea.”

Kole took it from me and gently touched the leaves. “Thank you,” he said quietly.

“Hey,” I said, rubbing his back. “You okay?”

He set the plant on the desk, and when he looked up at me his eyes were wide and frightened. My heart lurched.

“I couldn’t see,” he said. “Every reading I did today, I couldn’t see. It was exactly like yesterday. Something’s wrong.”

I took his hands into mine and was surprised to feel how clammy they were. “What do you think it is? Why is this happening?”

He squeezed back at first but then drew his hands away. My heart dropped—I already knew the answer as I’d asked it, and I was trying to think of some way to fix this.

“It must’ve been because… Because we…” Kole paused. He shook his head like he didn’t want to say the words out loud.

“Because of what we’ve done together,” I said.

“I don't understand it,” said Kole, walking to the divination chamber. I followed him, and he pulled down a thick leather binder from one of the shelves and opened it on the table. “We didn’t do anything wrong. It says right here in my notes that I was to abstain from a relationship. We’re not in a relationship… but I can’t even remember if there was an explanation for why I had to take this vow. It just doesn’t make sense.”

“Maybe there’s someone you can ask. Someone at your school? Someone who would know?”

“Professor Lightpaw went on a sabbatical after my graduation and never returned,” he said. “I don’t know where she is. I don’t even know if she’s alive anymore.” He slumped against the table. “She was my mentor. She was the one who gave me instructions to do this. She said it would strengthen my abilities. I didn’t know everything was tied to it.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “Kole, I shouldn’t have taken things further, knowing you had that vow. I was really hoping we could find a way to make things work. I really… Well, I think I’m in love with you.” I smiled wryly. “And I think that made me act irresponsibly.”

He came over to me and took my hand. “You have nothing to apologize for, Markos. Nothing. This is my responsibility, and I was pushing the goalposts. I wanted to be with you. Maybe a little too much.”

Silence filled the room as we both got lost in our heads. A billion thoughts were going through my mind—anger that I’d screwed things up for him, wanting to find a way to make it work, disbelief at my horrible luck, and the slow realization that I had no other choice in the matter.

Kole stared at the wall, his hand gripping mine tightly. He shook his head and I could see his eyes sparkling with tears. He turned away from me and pulled off his glasses to wipe his face.

“I guess… this is gonna be the last time we see each other like this,” I said.

He hung his head, and then slowly nodded.

“We agreed from the beginning that we could never become serious,” I said. “I guess our fun had to come to an end at some point. I didn’t expect so soon. But if that’s how it has to be, then I’m prepared for that. I’m not going to put your life’s work into jeopardy. I just have one request… Please don’t abandon Elise. She needs your help. We don’t have to see each other, but will you please keep Elise as your student?”

Kole looked at me, tears running down his face. He was always such a bright and sunny soul that it hurt my heart to see him like this. I just couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d messed up. He hugged me tightly.

“I would never abandon Elise,” he said. “You have my word.”

“Fuck,” I muttered. “I hate this.” The reality of