Chapter Fifteen: January 19th
"I feel," Quinn said when they saw Vincent approach, "Like I'm about to rob a bank."
"Why?"
"Look at me!" they gestured down at themself. They were wearing tight black pants, a black sweater, and their black coat. Around their neck was a dark scarf—to keep them warm, but also to hopefully cover some of their face with if they had to. "I look like I'm about to perform a stick-up."
"You're always dressed in all black," Vincent said mildly, leaning against the wall of the art building next to them. He didn't seem at all concerned about what they were about to do—then again, it wasn't like he could suffer any legal consequences if they were spotted. Unless there was such a thing as ghost jail, which Quinn highly doubted.
"What's up, losers?" Joy greeted, rounding the corner with Jun in tow. While he looked just as apprehensive as Quinn felt, Joy was grinning like they were going on a fun field trip and not literally planning to dig up her corpse. "You ready?"
"Ready as I'll ever be. This way." Casting one last glance at the dorm building, Quinn motioned for the others to follow them. It was two a.m., so there were barely any lights on anymore, everyone safe and comfortable in their beds. Quinn couldn't believe that this—leading an entourage of ghosts to the cemetery—was what they were doing instead. What even was their life at this point?
Pushing their unease aside, they left the campus behind, making their way through the dormant alleys in silence. Oakriver was sleepy during the day; at night, it was downright comatose. There were no cars, no people—the only soul they encountered was a cat, hissing indignantly at them before it disappeared over a garden wall. Still, somehow Quinn couldn't shake the sense that they were being watched. Vincent seemed to feel the same, as he kept throwing glances over his shoulder every few feet.
Eventually, he ground to a stop with an exasperated groan. "Hannah Rosenthal," he called. "Come out right this second."
For a few beats, no one moved, all of them standing frozen as they squinted down the gloomy alleyway. Finally, Hannah shuffled into the yellow light of one of the streetlamps.
"Hannah," Vincent sighed, softer now. "I thought we agreed that you stay with Josie and Caleb tonight."
"They're so much younger than me though," she mumbled. "I don't want to play tag. I want to come with you."
"Absolutely not," Jun interjected, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he shook his head at her. "This isn't for anyone your age to see. Hell, I'm not even sure it's for my age to see."
"I'm not a little kid!" Hannah protested.
"No?" Vincent asked. "How old are you again?"
"Seventy-seven years old."
"Mh. Try again."
Hannah held his gaze for a few seconds before she deflated. "Twelve."
"That's right. It's not that we don't want you with us—it's just that this is something I don't think you should see," Vincent patiently explained. "Okay?"
Hannah held his gaze for a few seconds before she gave a defeated nod and turned around, shuffling back the way they'd come.
"Hey, ankle-biter!" Joy called after her. "If you're good and stay on the campus, I'll tell you about everything when we get back. Even the gory details."
Hannah immediately spun around, her face lighting up. "Really?"
"Really. Now keep on steppin', young lady, and don't get in any trouble."
"Promise," Hannah breathed before whirling around again. This time, she walked with her back straight and at a quick pace, as if she was afraid Joy would take her offer back if she stuck around too long.
Once she was out of sight, Vincent shook his head, setting off down the sidewalk again. His voice was almost unbearably fond as he murmured, "Too curious for her own good, that one."
Quinn couldn't hold back a smile of their own. The way the three interacted with Hannah was oddly wholesome; between Vincent's patience, Jun's protectiveness, and Joy's playfulness, Quinn could see how the little ghosts had been able to hold onto their joy all these years.
With the creeping feeling of being watched finally gone, they made it to the gates of the cemetery without another interruption. When they arrived there, Valerie and Rhia were already waiting, huddled close together for warmth.
"This is a stupid plan," Rhia said in lieu of a greeting. She was visibly shivering in the biting night air, her hands stuffed into the pockets of her dark jacket. Quinn didn't think they'd ever seen her dressed quite as plainly—she wasn't even wearing any earrings.
"It's our only plan," Quinn responded, rubbing at their ice-cold nose as they came to a halt in front of them. "But if you don't want to be here, I understand. You don't have to help if you don't—"
"Of course I'm helping," Rhia cut them off. "Otherwise I'd be curled up in bed with my cats right now, not here."
"She's not a night person," Valerie said.
"I'm not a performing crimes by night person," Rhia corrected her, staring darkly at the entrance to the cemetery. "Especially not when I have to lie about where I've been to three clairvoyant witches."
"Your grandma probably already knew about this, like, ten weeks ago," Valerie told her, as if that was any consolation. Then, she glanced somewhere behind Quinn's shoulders and waved a hand. "Hello, ghosts. I'm Valerie."
Next to Quinn, Vincent huffed a quiet laugh. Jun beamed at her as if she could somehow see him; Joy slowly looked her up and down, whistling through her teeth, and drawled, "Tell her I dig her boots."
"Joy likes your boots," Quinn dutifully reported.
Valerie gave a small curtsy, grinning down at her Doc Martens. She was about to reply—probably to proudly announce that they were the vegan version—, but the deafening creaking of the cemetery gate cut her off. While Rhia took a stumbling step backward, clutching onto Valerie's arm, Quinn stood frozen, their fight or flight instinct failing them as they stared at the gate slowly inching open—
And finally revealing Luis, holding a flashlight under his chin like an idiot while the other arm held the shovel he was carrying over his shoulder. "It is time," he said in a grave voice.
"I hate you," Quinn said without any heat and entered first.
Behind them, they could hear Luis introducing himself to Rhia (using his regular voice, thankfully), followed by Rhia exclaiming, "Oh, I know you from the café! You're the guy with the strange book orders."
A moment later, Luis appeared at Quinn's side again, the light from his flashlight dancing across the narrow path in front of them as they walked. "I already located the grave earlier. I just hope the earth isn't too frozen to dig."
"It won't be a problem," Quinn said. "We have Valerie."
Luis cast a curious glance at her over his shoulder but didn't comment.
They reached the headstone a moment later. While Luis set down his shovel and handed them his flashlight, Quinn tried to read Joy's expression. They didn't know how they would feel standing at their own grave, seeing the date of their birth and death and the too-short period in between set in stone.
If Joy was in any way affected, she didn't show it—instead, she sat down on the headstone, crossed one leg over the other, and said, "Let's get this show on the road then."
"Did you bring the spirit box?" Quinn asked Luis.
"Uh-huh. Hang on." Ruffling through his backpack, he procured the familiar device. "This might be a bit loud," he warned a heartbeat before the loud chattering of the radio channels tore through the oppressive quiet of the cemetery.
While Valerie cackled, clearly delighting in the chaos, Rhia pressed her hands over her ears with a yelp.
Vincent was the first of the ghosts to speak. "Hi Luis," he said, his smile audible in his voice. "Thanks for doing this."
"Hey, Casper." Luis beamed at some undefined spot next to Quinn—it wasn't where Vincent had initially been standing, but he moved there anyway so Luis didn't have to feel embarrassed. "Missed your voice."
Jun, who had sunk into a cross-legged seat next to the headstone, leaned a little closer to the spirit box. "Hey. I'm Quinn's uncle. I've heard a lot about you, Luis. I hope you know I'm watching you."
"Jun," Quinn groaned.
Luis, now a few shades paler, nodded hastily. "Got it. That only leaves Joy?"
"Yep." Joy's head was tilted in mild curiosity as she studied him.
"Nice to meet you. I'm going to dig up your grave, if that's chill with you."
Joy lifted an eyebrow, almost a little impressed. "Right on. Be my guest."
And so, Luis began. The process was slow-going; he was the only one who had a shovel, and he had to pause every few minutes to let Valerie thaw the frozen ground. Between the heat of her magick and the physical exertion, it wasn't long before he stripped off his jacket and continued in only a black t-shirt, the muscles in his arms and back flexing as he moved.
Quinn stood next to the grave, helpfully pointing Luis's flashlight and definitely not staring. "Becoming a grave robber wasn't on my bucket list for this year," they murmured over the sound of shoveling and Luis's heavy breathing.
"Yeah, you're right," he said, wiping the sweat off his brow. "I didn't have that planned until at least 2024."
"It's not robbing if it's mine," Joy threw in, still perched on her headstone. The fingers of her left hand were running through Jun's hair where he sat cross-legged at her feet; in response, he slung one arm around her legs, his thumb rubbing absentmindedly up and down her ankle. "It's not like my corpse is gonna miss its jewelry."
"Try explaining that to the police," Quinn snorted, though they weren't particularly worried. Just the sound of the spirit box, loud and garbled, was probably enough to scare off any passersby. "Also, Jesus Christ, could you two tone down the cuddling? You're sitting on a grave."
"It's my grave!" Joy protested. "You guys are basically standing in my living room."
Luis let out a breathless sort of laugh that made Quinn feel a little bit lightheaded, only to follow it up with, "It's said that Mary Shelley had sex on her mother's grave."
At that, even Joy's jaw dropped. "No shit."
Valerie peered up at him from where she was crouched at his feet, her hands still pressed into the dirt. "You're kind of weird," she said. From her mouth, it sounded like a compliment.
"Thank you," Luis cheerily said. "Being strange and off-putting is part of my natural charm."
Quinn frowned. "How are you off-putting?"
Luis looked up, briefly meeting their eyes. Quinn had no idea how he could stand literally half-way down a grave, cemetery dirt smeared across his cheek, and still make their stupid heartbeat stumble. "Are you're implying you find this hot?" he teased, purposefully chucking the next shovelful of dirt directly at their feet. "Maybe Mary Shelley was onto something."
Suddenly, Quinn was glad it was so dark outside. "I suppose you would know, Mr. Frankenstein For a Bedtime Story."
"You loved it." Luis grinned.
"Dear lord." Rhia turned her eyes up at the night sky as if seeking heavenly support. "Less flirting and more digging, please? My toes have frozen off, I think."
"Don't worry, pumpkin." Valerie winked up at her. "Once we're done here, I'll spend the rest of the night warming you up."
Before Rhia could do more than sputter a flustered Valerie, the sound of the shovel hitting something solid made all of them jump.
Luis blinked down at the ground. "Oh. Looks like we have it."
Joy immediately perked up, swinging her legs off the headstone to step closer. Luis shivered when she pressed up behind him to peek over his shoulder, but didn't move away. "Go on," Joy urged.
Luis did, working at the ground until the shiny wooden top of a casket emerged. Somehow, it was only then that it truly set in what they were doing. With all the bickering, it had been easy to ignore, but now Quinn was acutely aware that they were standing on a real grave, with a real casket and the remains of a real body inside.
Even Luis looked a little bit uneasy now, but tried for a grin as he dropped the shovel and wiped his hands on his pants. "Hey, I think my grandpa made this one. I always think how sad it is I never get to see these bad boys again once they go under the earth, so... this is kind of full circle."
Quinn smiled weakly in response. For a few moments, the only sound was the empty chatter of the spirit box switching through its channels. Finally, Joy said, "Come on. Get it over with."
Gulping, Quinn passed the flashlight to Rhia and knelt next to Luis, the cold of the soil seeping through their jeans. They exchanged one glance before, without speaking a word, they stemmed the lid up at the same time.
At first, Quinn didn't look, holding their breath so the wind could carry off the stench of decay. They only dared to turn their head when Valerie went, "Huh." It wasn't a terrified or disgusted or otherwise emotionally charged Huh. If anything, it was slightly underwhelmed.
Quinn understood why when they peered into the casket. What stared back at them wasn't a horrifying corpse with worms peeking out its eye sockets—it was just a skeleton. Which was macabre, sure, but not nearly as revolting as the image they'd braced themself for. Looking at it made Quinn feel no different than looking at the skeleton in their high school biology course, or a piece of really realistic Halloween decoration. The Joy Quinn knew, with her raspy voice and venomous glares, was far scarier.
While the others still stared, Joy leaned forward, peering down at her skull with a detached sort of fascination. "Damn. This was really inside me this entire time, huh?"
Quinn suddenly became uncomfortably aware of all their joints.
"Well?" Joy turned her head to look expectantly at them. "Are you gonna graverob, or what?"
With a start, Quinn remembered that this was what they were there for. "Right. Uh... what do you want me to take?"
"Ugh, I don't care. It's all ugly. I can't believe they buried me in this." With a disgusted curl of her lips, Joy tried to pluck at the lavender dress her skeleton was swathed in. "I should've written my will before I bit it. Something like Bury me in Vivienne Westwood or don't bother dressing me at all." She glared down at the frilly fabric for a few more seconds before she pointed at the skeleton's hand. "The ring. I wore it pretty much every day."
"I've got it," Luis murmured, reaching out before Quinn had to. Carefully, and without touching the skeleton, he managed to slide the ring off its finger and handed it to them.
It was a simple silver band without any engravings or details, the metal cool in their palm. Quinn studied it for a few seconds before sliding it into the pocket of their jeans and getting to their feet. Luis followed their lead, and together, they lowered the lid of the casket again.
A collective exhale sounded as soon as the skeleton was out of sight. Joy still looked barely fazed—instead, the person who looked the most affected was Jun, a grayish tint to his skin as he ran a hand through his hair.
"Hey," Joy said, sliding a hand to the nape of his neck to pull him in. "That thing isn't important. Just some stupid bones."
"Those stupid bones were you, at one point," Jun shakily objected.
"Yeah, well. This is me now." Joy gestured down at herself. "Chronically hot and sexy."
"I want that on a t-shirt," Valerie said.
With the adrenaline wearing off, Quinn couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled from all the way down in their chest, mixing with the others' as the tension in the air finally dissolved.
"I'll make that for you," Luis promised. "And for myself, too."
"Ghost merch," Quinn giggled. Giggled. What the hell was happening to them?
Rhia was the first one to collect herself. Shaking out her hands, she said, "I should probably close this very inconspicuous and not at all concerning hole, shouldn't I?"
The others immediately stepped back to give her more room. She knelt down by the grave, both hands pressed into the grass as she whispered a spell that was drowned out by the spirit box. A heartbeat later, the ground shook and then moved, the hole in the ground closing like a wound rapidly healing, consuming the casket once again. Next to Quinn, Luis looked like he'd forgotten how to breathe, his eyes full of giddy wonder as he drank in the sight of grass rapidly sprouting again, an even blanket that covered the soil as if it had never been disturbed.
"Holy shit," he breathed.
From the spirit box came the sound of applause as Vincent, Joy and Jun clapped. Rhia stood, allowing Valerie to press a kiss to her cheek before she planted herself in front of Luis and jabbed a finger at his chest. "One word about this to anyone, and I'll turn you into a tree."
For a girl two heads shorter than him, she had an impressive effect on him. Without a word of protest, Luis motioned as if to lock his mouth and toss away the key.
Rhia nodded, satisfied. "By the way, your book on Chinese folklore came in earlier today. You can pick it up tomorrow morning." She cast another glance at Joy's grave, shivering. "Now let's get out of here."
The others didn't need to be told twice. Quinn made to follow them, but a warm hand grabbing onto theirs stopped them. "Hey," Luis chuckled nervously. "I don't think I can go home like this. Do you know where I could clean up?"
Quinn paused. The obvious answer was a shower in the dorms, even at the risk of running into some sleepy students. Instead, their mouth formed the stupid answer. "There's a lake not far from here. I can take you there if you want."
"Okay," Luis immediately said. Quinn had the heady feeling that, at that moment, he would've gone pretty much anywhere with them.
"Hey!" they called out, making the others stop in their tracks. Awkwardly jerking their head in the direction of the woods, they said, "You guys can go ahead. Luis and I are going down to the lake for a bit."
Even in the dark, they could clearly make out the way Valerie's lips broke into a grin. "Have fun!"
"Don't catch a cold," Vincent said, an amused twinkle in his eyes.
"I didn't say anything about getting in," Quinn protested.
"Oh, we're going in," Luis said. Quinn didn't know why the word we made their breath catch. To Vincent, he said, "You coming, too?"
"Uh... n-no, thanks. I have to get back and make sure Joy doesn't traumatize Hannah with her retelling of tonight."
"That's... probably for the best," Quinn said, even though part of them wished he would come with them, even if it was just to keep Quinn from doing something they'd regret. "See you tomorrow."
Vincent gave them a dorky thumbs-up before he too disappeared out of sight.
Luis gave a squeeze to their fingers. "Lead the way, then."
The silence that settled over them when he turned off the spirit box was a heavy, intimate thing. Together, they left the cemetery behind, making a short stop at Luis's to drop off the shovel before heading in the direction of the woods.
"So," Quinn said after a few minutes, bumping their shoulder against his. "Chinese folklore?"
"Of course you caught that," Luis murmured. Quinn wasn't sure if they were imagining it, or if his flushed cheeks turned even redder. "I just—The other day, you were talking about how you don't know any of your witch family in China, so I thought maybe I could do some research on Chinese witchcraft. There's always a kernel of truth in lore, so... I don't know, I figured it was worth a shot."
Something about the way he said it, like it was no big deal, like it was really just that easy—just like he'd talked when he'd given them the jacket—made Quinn feel warm all the way down to their toes. They didn't say anything, but as they wandered deeper into the woods, they allowed their hand to brush against his, their pinkie fingers lacing together as they led him down the path they'd walked a dozen nights before.
It wasn't long before they heard the murmuring of the water, the noise making their magick well up in their chest, calling back, tugging them closer. It hurt, a little, in a similar way that seeing their parents had hurt; something bitter-sweet that reminded them just how long it had been since they'd been here, how much of the guilt inside of them had actually just been longing.
The trees cleared and then the lake finally lay ahead of them, a sea of stars, cool and completely untouched. Quinn gave in to its pull, just a little, and stepped closer, watching as the surface went from completely still to rippling gently in greeting.
"Have you ever brought someone else here?" Luis asked. He was speaking as if he were in a place of worship, voice hushed like a prayer.
"No," Quinn answered, just as softly.
"Are you sure it's okay for me to go in?" Quinn could hear what he really meant: Will you share this with me? Will you let me in and see this part of you as well? Will you trust me to keep this fragile thing safe?
Quinn tore their eyes away from the water to look at Luis standing next to them, his gaze steady, his bronze skin dappled in silver moonlight. "Yes."
Luis smiled, just a small quirk of his lips, and let his hands drop to the hem of his shirt. Quinn didn't—couldn't—look away, not breaking eye contact with him as he tugged his shirt over his head and discarded it, as he stripped off his pants and stepped out of his shoes. The movements were unrushed, methodical. They reminded Quinn of the way he'd shrugged off his robe in the art studio without a second of hesitation, completely at ease even as he was left in only his boxers.
"How are you so confident?" Quinn wondered out loud.
"I grew up in a tiny town where everyone knew my family built coffins," Luis snorted. "Everyone thought I was weird from the get-go. It used to eat at me when I was little, but then at some point I just... accepted it. I said You know what, I will be weird, and I started dressing how I wanted and consuming the media I found interesting and kissing the people I liked. I still got looks, but it didn't make a fucking difference because I loved the person I was becoming—the person who didn't care what anyone thought." He stretched a little, exposing his neck to the moonlight as he offered Quinn a crooked grin. "When you know people are watching, the least you can do is give them a show, don't you think?"
"Shut up," Quinn murmured, flustered, and pressed a hand flat to his chest to give him a push towards the lake. "Get in there. You have graveyard all over your face."
"Bossy," Luis said, but obediently turned around. He hissed through his teeth when he dipped his toes in, swearing quietly at the cold—still, he kept moving, until it was up to his knees. In a somber voice, he gestured dramatically at the water and rasped, "I looked upon the sea; it was to be my grave."
"Is that from Frankenstein?"
"You know me too well." He shivered through a laugh, the noise a strange, endearing thing. Then, he looked at Quinn over his shoulder and tilted his head. "What about you? Are you really not coming in?"
Quinn bit their lip, their hands burrowed in the pockets of their coat. "I've never gone inside. I don't... I don't know what will happen."
"Seriously?" Luis turned around fully to face them. "Quinn. Your element is water and you've never been in the lake?"
They shook their head.
"What do you think will happen?"
"I don't know," Quinn admitted. "I think I... I think I'm afraid of how much I'll like it."
"Why would liking it be a bad thing?"
Quinn hesitated. They hadn't thought that far yet. A few weeks ago, going into the lake had meant accepting their magick—admitting that it was real, admitting that it was theirs. But now, after all those nights spent with Vincent, after their hunt for artifacts, after the evening they'd shown their magick to Luis, they realized that they were far beyond that point. Somewhere along the way, they had stopped questioning if they really wanted these abilities and simply accepted that they had them—instead of trying to push them down, they had started figuring out how they could use them to help. An instrument, not an enemy.
"It isn't," they breathed. "Fuck, Luis, it isn't."
Luis took another small step backward, wading deeper into the lake. The water was almost up to his chin by now. Quinn knew what it was: an invitation, a challenge. They studied him, battling with themself—until he suddenly slipped and disappeared beneath the surface.
Quinn waited. One second. Two. Three. Luis didn't reappear. The only noise was the gentle lapping of the water against the shore Quinn was standing on, the distant sound of the wind whistling through the treetops. The surface of the lake was so still. As if Luis had never been there—as if he'd just been swallowed.
Quinn counted to thirty in their head, then forty. When the seconds began to approach fifty, they finally got themself to move, tearing their sweater over their head and scrambling to step out of their pants and shoes. Left in only their boxer shorts, their binder, and an oversized t-shirt they had worn under their sweater, they ran, barely registering the cold of the water as they splashed through it. It easily gave way around them, almost carrying them towards the spot where Luis had disappeared.
They had almost reached it when there was suddenly a loud splashing sound and Luis's head emerged, his gasps for air turning into sputtering laughter when his eyes found Quinn. "Holy shit, I didn't think that would work!"
"Luis!" Quinn exclaimed. "Fuck you, I thought you drowned—"
"But look! You did it! You're in the lake!"
Somehow, it was only then that it really registered. Quinn looked around, taking in the water surrounding them on all sides, the way it rippled in time with their breathing and soaked up the moonlight. Swimming in it, it was almost impossible to tell where the lake ended and where the night sky began, the two bleeding together in a silver-threaded expanse of darkness, shimmering and vast. The only thing solid was Luis, the water barely reaching up to his shoulders as he stood there, his eyes as bright as all the stars combined.
Quinn took a deep breath, then another, and realized what felt different: for the first time in months, the aching tug of yearning in their chest was gone. Instead, there was something else: a calm sense of power, a foreign equilibrium.
They didn't have much time to soak it in before a strange surge of water pushed them forward, closer to Luis. Quinn tried to stop it, but it was too late—before they knew what was happening, their traitorous magick had already washed them over to him, until they were only inches away from each other.
"Exposed," Luis said. His voice was a low murmur, warm with amusement and something else.
Before Quinn could even think about a response, his hands moved to their waist, pulling them towards him and holding them up at the same time. His face was so close that Quinn could see the individual drops of water that clung to his lashes, glittering like diamonds in the moonlight. Their gaze followed one of them as it pearled from one of the curls that stuck to his forehead, traveling down his temple, along his cheekbones, past his parted lips and then farther down.
When they dragged their eyes back to his, they found Luis staring at their mouth, his throat working as he swallowed, hard. This sight, more than anything, was what finally unraveled the last scraps of their self-restraint.
Their leaning in felt as inevitable as the pull of the water, and as terrifying, too.
There was a soft sound of surprise when Quinn's lips found Luis's—and then Luis was kissing them back, frantic and needy, as the water surged around them.
In the sudden waves, Quinn's hands instinctively moved to his shoulders, holding on for dear life. At the same time, Luis guided their legs so they were hooked around his middle, breaking the kiss only to ask, "This okay?"
"Yeah," Quinn breathed and reeled him back in, one hand buried in the curls at the nape of his neck to ground themself.
And God, did they need to. Kissing Luis felt like drowning, like swimming in deep waters and never wanting to come up for air. It was so easy to get lost in him; in the feeling of his body flush against theirs, warm and unshakably solid; in the little noise he made when Quinn tugged at his hair; even in the stupid grin they could feel against their lips, making kissing impossible after a few seconds.
"What?" they asked, knowing they were smiling as well.
"Nothing," he said. The sound of his voice, breathy and affected, made Quinn's skin prickle with an unfamiliar sense of pride. "I think we should go swimming more often."
Quinn gave another gentle tug to his hair. "Shut up."
For once, Luis did. As Quinn rested their forehead against his shoulder, feeling his fingers trailing up and down their spine, the water around them calmed as well, going back to lapping sweetly at their skin. Despite its temperature, Quinn didn't even feel cold anymore—not with the way Luis's body was burning up, his arms folded around them like he never intended to let go.
Quinn didn't think they would have minded.
They'd never been held so thoroughly. They'd never thought that it was something they wanted, either. Then again, they also hadn't thought that they would someday end up kissing the most beautiful boy they knew in a lake they were magickally connected to after digging up a grave with a gang of ghosts.
At that moment, they didn't even care that they were only wearing boxer shorts, or that their soaked binder was going to be a pain to take off after this. They just settled, so easily, into his embrace, feeling his heart go from racing to beating steadily beneath their palm.
"So?" Luis asked after a moment, his voice slightly muffled into their hair. "How's being in the lake?"
"Dunno." Quinn hid their smile in the crook of his neck. "It's kind of hard to focus right now."
"Mh," Luis hummed, quietly pleased, and pressed a kiss to the sensitive spot right beneath Quinn's left ear. While they tried to suppress a shiver, he drifted his hands up their sides, until they were cupping Quinn's face. In contrast with the cool night air, his skin was searing. "Looks like we'll have to stay a bit longer then. You know, to get a reliable result."
Quinn blinked up at him, taking in the sight of his hooded eyes, the flush on his cheeks, the redness of his kiss-swollen lips, and thought this. This version of Luis, moon-drenched and hazy and only for them to see, was the one that needed to be painted.
A little distracted, they murmured, "Sounds like a sensible plan. Very empirical."
Guiding their chin with his fingertips, Luis leaned in again. Where the first kiss had felt like drowning, this one felt like floating—soft and unrushed, and somehow still enough to make Quinn's breath catch almost painfully.
It was then, with Luis's thumb sweeping gently over their cheek, that Quinn had two realizations.
One: They had never been less afraid of their magick than at that moment.
And two: Quinn would have happily spent the rest of their life kissing Luis Ortíz.
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