My father finally returned to the house, with Serge behind him. I risked a look at Serge through the chill and he looked completely unaccosted.

"So, would you like to stay for supper?" my father invited.

I shook my head. We had pushed our luck quite far enough, and it was like I all my energy and fight had been drained.

"I just want to go home, S-Ser...?"

"If that's what you want," he responded.

"It is," I agreed.

"Is there anything you need while you're here?" Moramay asked.

I shook my head. "I'm g-good. Hopefully later..."

Hopefully later I would be able to handle it, because I was free, but the curse slammed it's shards into my neck and pushed them through my blood for daring to hope.

I shivered as I took Serge's hand. I did not care much if it bothered my father, because the feeling of his hand in mine pushed back the cold like little else could. My father would just have to get used to it.

I said goodbye to my father and Moramay. Both gave me quick hugs, but I did not let Serge go. Then, with all the force of will I could muster, I walked past him and led him out the door.

My father needed to be reminded that there was still more to me than just the curse.

Serge began driving us home. Once we got out of sight, I undid my seatbelt and slipped over to the middle seat before fastening myself in.

I felt a bit silly sitting in the middle, but his body heat banished the curse better than the vehicle's heater ever had. "So, um, what did my dad say to y-you?"

"I doubt you actually want to know," Serge said.

"I want to," I insisted and shivered.

"Well, I doubt you'd want me to go into the specifics, but he gave me a number of directions and warnings."

I shivered. "Did he threaten you?"

"Well..."

I groaned.

"Don't worry. I understand where he's coming from. The situation is far beyond his control. And honestly, if anyone treated you so badly as he fears I would, I hope he would kill them."

"What did he say?"

"I'm sure you can imagine, Elise."

I definitely could imagine, but I was mostly just glad that my fears of violence against Serge had come to naught. He put his arm around my shoulders and I let the relief flow through me, pushing the curse even farther away. I smiled.

"Thanks," I said.

"For what?" he asked. I smiled at his puzzlement.

"For everything," I said.

He made a noncommittal sort of sound.

"If y-you weren't y-you, I could have been in serious trouble."

"Well, if—"

"What happened, happened," I interrupted him. The curse flared up at my impertinence, as I had known it would, but I simply focused on him instead. "I forgive y-you, and I want y-you to forgive yourself."

He shifted beside me, "I'll do what I can, Elise."

He changed the subject. "What do you want for supper?" he asked.

"Whatever is fine with me," I said quickly before the curse could assault me into deciding. I had never explicitly told anyone how little I appreciated flavours now, although it was better than it had been at first.

For a second I imagined what it would be like if the curse was successfully removed. Speaking properly, tasting things, looking people in the eyes without reservation, warmth.

The warmth would be wonderful. I could scarcely imagine anything better. Serge was warm, but the warmth could be my own. More shivers.

"Want the heater?" Serge asked.

"No thanks," I responded quickly. "Y-you're warmer than a heater."

He chuckled a bit at my words and I felt warmer than ever.

* * *  *  *  *  * * *

We ate canned soup and sandwiches for supper and I had no complaints. Afterwards, instead of disappearing like he usually would, Serge sat on the couch and I sat with him. I worried that I was keeping him from something more important.

"Y-you don't have anything y-you need to do?" I asked.

"No, everything is well in hand. All I've done lately is work," he told me. "Want to watch something?"

Honestly I would have been just as happy to sit in silence with him. "Only if y-you want to," I said. I risked a glance at his face to see his reaction.

He smiled at me and my heart fluttered with pleasure. I liked when I made him happy, rather than the pain my condition usually caused.

Would he would kiss me? I rather hoped he would, in spite of the ice in my blood at the thought. Such contact would melt the cold. I wondered if he could tell how much I actually desired his presence near me or how much my interest in him help push away the worst of the curse. The idea that the one who had inflicted this on me might also be the one to relieve it had a certain symmetry to it.

And even if falling in love with him did not remove it, he was a salve that made life with it more manageable, and that was enough. I was secure in my choice.

He dipped his head nearer to me, but did not make contact. I smiled as affection welled up inside of me. How could I not love his care and concern? He made me feel like I was the center of his universe and strangely enough, curse bound as we were, I was as he was mine.

I pushed aside the nagging worries of how the rest of the world would react as I closed the distance between us.

Serge was heat and light and love while I was lost in the lonely cold shadows of the curse. I let him push the darkness away and at the same time I hoped my acceptance of him would banish the demons of guilt and isolation that plagued him. I put my arms around his neck instinctively and we stayed like that, drinking in each other for what was probably minutes.

Finally, he broke the contact between our mouths. I glanced at him and was reassured by the look on his face. For once he did not look like he was blaming himself, instead he looked like his stony determination had cracked just a bit, and I gained immense satisfaction that I was the one who had done it to him. I grinned to myself.

"What are you so happy about?" he asked gently.

"Everything," I said simply and it was entirely true in the moment.

As I sat wrapped in Serge's warmth, I acknowledged it was also true that I was rather inexperienced with dealing with males in this way, be they werewolves or regular humans. I understood the basics, but I had barely even been kissed before and I did not count that one awkward moment in grade nine with Neal. He had told me that he had a thing for me, then he misinterpreted my stunned awkward silence as agreement and kissed me while I stood up against the brick of the school.

I smiled a bit at the memory.

After a moment, I had regained my wits and pushed him away. He had stuttered apologies, his poor face turning beet red and then white when he turned around not only to see my brother had witnessed it, but also...

I swallowed past my pain.

To see Sean, but also Matthias. He and my brother had argued about who would beat poor Neal up. I intervened and told them both to back off. Thinking of Matthias hurt now, but I did not want to hide from those memories, all the things I had interpreted as brotherly concern, when in fact he had probably been feeling something else entirely.

Oh, Matt, I thought sadly. Perhaps if I had known, things would have been different.

They almost certainly would have been, because I would have been happy to be with Matthias, in another time, in another world, where I had chosen Matthias. I hurt at the pain imagined he was feeling, worse than even just the loss of a romantic interest. He had also lost his best friend.

But that could not be changed. Maybe one day he might move past it and we could still be friends, but I was completely certain my presence would be little more than constant scraping off a scab. It might feel satisfying in the moment, but it was best just let the wound heal and not agitate it.

I turned my gaze back to my choice and let myself relax beside him. Like Serge's guilt over what he had done to me, it would take time for me to forgive myself for what I had done to my friend.

For now I could only look forward. I paused and considered my words, "Should we pick a date?"

"Already?"

I swallowed. "If you want?"

"Of course I want, but..."

"What are y-you worrying about?" I asked.

"I'm not worried," he argued.

"Then don't you want to?"

"Never doubt that I want to, Elise. I want to be with you until we're both old and grey."

I smiled at the thought. "Then?"

"How about you pick?" he offered.

The curse had truly made me come to hate making decisions. It wanted me to simply wander around in a haze, obeying whatever they told me to do. The more available options, the worse it assaulted me.

"Four weeks?" I pushed the nearly random number out through my restricted throat.

"That soon?" he asked, sounding surprised.

I swallowed, "Is it too soon?"

"No," he responded quickly. "I'll just make sure Pastor Jensen is able to do it then and I should be able to get the licence before then. If you're sure."

"I'm sure, S-Serge," I told him as I snuggled closer to his warmth.