Arrowan

There was exactly one area of my life I kept hidden from Luin, and – unsurprisingly – it was a huge mess. If it wasn't obvious enough by now how much better I was when he was by my side, this would help illustrate the point nicely.

I paid close attention to our bond, since it assured me Luin was on the other side of the house. Of course, he could appear in my little studio in an instant (teleporting isn't always a convenience), but he didn't usually teleport around our home so I should be safe.

I still had a little adrenaline rush when I opened the locked cabinet in my studio, convinced Luin was going to appear and see its contents any second. After I got my studio all set up and gave Luin the tour, he had questioned this cabinet and what it held. I brushed off his questions, saying that some of my tools were too dangerous to leave lying around and were better kept in a locked cabinet. That was true, but that wasn't what this cabinet was for at all.

I pulled open the door and I stared at what I had wrought.

Right in front was the original statue I made for Luin so long ago, back before we ever met and before I ever came to Earth. The one I had been convinced I could improve upon once we got to know each other. An intertwined sun and moon, done up in different materials to represent the two of us. Alabaster for myself, copper for Luin.

It sounded simple. It should have been simple.

And yet...

Next to and behind the statue were dozens – dozens – of similar creations using various materials. I had tried everything I could think of to represent Luin, and nothing seemed right. I had tried all manner of metals and alloys, and I still had nothing I felt was good enough to present to him.

My latest attempt finally looked something like the image in my head I'd been trying to create, but when I looked at it, I still couldn't help but think, Not good enough.

The problem was probably that I had so much to compare it to. I might have finally done a passable job replicating the color of Luin's eyes by using highly-polished steel, but the alabaster moon seemed a little out of balance if I compared it to several of my other attempts. And was the stand completely vertical? I couldn't tell anymore. I had been creating and staring at iterations of this statue for so long, I might actually go mad if I tried any longer.

I could create this design over and over again forever without ever landing on a version I was truly happy with. When did it end? At what point could I give the man I loved the labor of my heart, perfection be damned?

My eyes traced over the rows of statues in my cabinet, picking out the flaws with each one. The proportions of number twenty-three were perfect, but there was a blemish in the stone of the moon that I couldn't get past. Number fourteen had perfectly twisted rays coming off the sun, but the metal had a bit of a brassy cast. Number seven was dented on the back and I wasn't even sure what the purpose had been in keeping it, except that there was something morbidly satisfying about seeing all my attempts lined up like this. I might not have created the perfect statue for Luin, but no one could say I hadn't given it an honest effort.

My eyes slid back to my latest attempt, number twenty-six. It really was the best one yet. And even if it wasn't absolutely perfect, I'd never have more perfect timing than today.

That settled it. My stomach twisted with nerves, but now that the decision was made, I swiftly carried it out. I took the statue from its brethren and stepped through the full-length mirror I kept in my studio, emerging in our bedroom. There was a silver gift bag and tissue paper stashed in my jeans drawer, the one place I knew Luin wouldn't look. If he got clothes out for me, he always opted for the slacks that hung in my closet.

As though I wasn't still having doubts that this was the final product I should offer my bond mate, my hands moved steadily and efficiently to wrap up the statue. I glanced at the clock and saw that I only had a couple of minutes left.

Today was the anniversary of the day I met Luin. He was preparing a special meal for us and had booted me out of the kitchen while he made it. I knew his plan was to eat around the time we met. That was exactly Luin's brand of sentimentality.

But it wasn't the time I wanted to celebrate.

No, the most significant time for me was before that, the moment our bond reignited. I had just spent a full day wondering whether our bond was gone forever, and nothing could ever match the elation of its return. I didn't know it at the time, but our bond only came back because Luin had, for the second time, chosen to put it above everything else. And that choice was what I wanted to honor.

In just two minutes, it would be exactly a year from when our bond returned. I clutched the gift in my hands, shoved down another heap of doubt about whether it was good enough, and went to find Luin.

When I got to the kitchen, I had to laugh. It was a wreck. Since Luin had insisted he wanted to surprise me with this meal, I squeezed my eyes shut before I could take in any more detail than that the pasta machine was out. As far as I knew, Luin had never made pasta in his life.

"Arrowan!" he cried when he saw me. "Get out! You can't be in here!"

Maybe it was insensitive to laugh, but I couldn't help it. "I'll only leave if you come with me. I need to talk to you for a minute."

"Fine. But I'm under duress."

I laughed again, and caught a flicker of amusement through our bond that told me Luin wasn't really all that upset. After I left the kitchen, Luin gently took my shoulders and nudged me over a little further until I couldn't see into it anymore.

"Okay, what is it?" he asked.

My fingers tightened around the gift bag until they ached. I shouldn't have done this. I should have just gotten him a nice new sweater or something for our anniversary, or maybe made him some bread. The statue wasn't ready yet. It wasn't enough.

"Arrowan?"

My eyes snapped to Luin, who was eying me with concern. His eyes flicked to the bag in my hand and I knew he was curious, but he wouldn't press me when I was so stressed.

Well, even if the statue wasn't what I envisioned, it was too late to go back now.

I looked at my watch, and my heart beat faster when it struck 1:03. "It's exactly a year since our bond came back," I whispered.

Luin didn't say anything, but I felt his reaction through our bond. The flash of surprise, followed by a warmth I still wasn't sure I deserved.

"I don't think I ever thanked you," I continued quietly. This wasn't a moment to be shattered by loud voices. I fixed my eyes on his so he could see as well as feel how earnestly I meant it when I said, "I should have thanked you a long time ago. Thank you for waiting for me all those years. Thank you for not giving up."

His eyes filled with tears and he flung himself against me. "Of course," he said. "I could never give up on us."

I kissed the top of his head, since it was all I could reach while embracing him like this. "Me too. I love you so much."

The feeling between us now was so sharp and piercing, it ached. "I love you too," he said.

"So, I wanted you to have this. I made it for you."

Luin danced back away from me with that startling grace of his, and all traces of tears were quickly wiped away as he stared with wide eyes at the bag I held. "Really?"

He had been begging to see my work almost since we'd met, and I always told him it was too soon. Maybe I always would have felt it was too soon, but Luin's excitement went a long way toward easing my worry.

This was it, the last piece of myself I hadn't shared with him. And wasn't it about time I offered that up, as well?

My stomach twisted, but I passed the bag over to Luin's waiting hands. They sank with the unexpected weight of it, which I might have laughed at if I weren't so nervous. Both our hands trembled, mine with nerves and his with excitement, as he carefully pulled out the tissue and unwrapped the statue I had made for him. When Luin finally held it in his hands, he gasped.

"Arrowan, it's remarkable!"

Finally, for the first time all day, my stomach settled. He meant it. All I felt from Luin was wonder and love. He really did like it.

"It's, um..." Nerves swelled again, stealing my words.

Luin found them for me. "It's us," he finished.

Of course he understood.

"It's so beautiful."

He sat on the couch and turned it over and over in his hands, taking in every angle. In his hands, I could almost see the beauty he did. I sat next to him and he automatically leaned against me, still studying the statue. "Sorry it took me so long," I said. The statue, and my appearance in his life.

He shook his head. "Don't apologize. It's perfect. It's all been perfect."

I kissed him and he sank into me. I eased him back against the arm of the couch, and it broke the moment. Luin laughingly said, "There's no time for that. I've got to finish cooking!"

Before I could get another word in, he darted out of my arms and back into the kitchen.

"And stay out!" he called happily.

I shook my head at his antics, but didn't argue. There would be time enough later. My eyes landed on the seat he had just vacated and I noted that it was empty. He had taken the little statue with him.

--

Sorry this took so long!  After the final chapter, I started really second-guessing myself and needed some distance to do these two justice in their epilogue.  I still intend to write extras in the future, but I'm focusing on finishing "Resonant" for now.  Leave your requests and I'll do my best to get to them (YunRmz, I haven't forgotten you, I promise!).

Take care,

Nia