bloomIt had been a week since Dr. Alexander Thane had arrived in Gloomwood, and he was no closer to treating the plague than he was when he first arrived.
He stood on a street corner, puzzling over the map in his hands. Some map! The cartographer should be whipped, he thought, crumpling it and stuffing it into his coat pocket. His cane, which he’d hung on his arm, nearly fell from the force. He took it and rapped it on the ground in annoyance. Well, there was a run-down church across the street; maybe the priest could help him find his way. With little else to do, Xander crossed and entered the church.
He found no priest, but instead a young lady sweeping the apse. She glanced up, looking much like a startled doe, with wide green eyes and cherubic chubby cheeks. The young lady wore a somewhat wrinkled white button-down shirt, a sage green skirt that fell below her knees, and weathered lace-up brown leather boots. A big green bow adorned her half-up bobbed brunette hair. She stared at him, then seemed to snap out of her reverie. “Oh! Um, welcome, mister.” She set her broom against a brick wall that had clearly seen better days. “Can I help you?”
“Just needed to sit for a bit, little lady,” he said, his cane hardly clicking on the rot-eaten wood floor. “I seem to have turned myself around.”
She gestured to a pew at the front of the sanctuary, and Xander sat down, his bad hip groaning with the effort. He’d be paying dearly for traipsing about the city tomorrow. How unfortunate that his current job amounted to a lot of traipsing about. “What’s your name?” he asked, leaning forward slightly to stretch his hips, putting his upper body weight on his cane.
“Millicent Halloran, but you can just call me Millie,” she replied, sitting stiffly beside him, her hands folded politely in her lap. This close, Xander could see dirt caked into the fabric of her skirt. She must have noticed him examining her clothes, because she tucked more of her skirt under her legs. “I’m sorry, I’ve been cleaning all day and haven’t had a chance to wash up.”
“It’s just a sign of hard work, isn’t it?” He gave her a smile, and she smiled, albeit awkwardly, back. “I’m Doctor Alexander Thane.”
“Oh! My friend Grezzo said there was a doctor coming to help.” Millie nodded, more to herself than to him, it seemed. “You said you got turned around?”
“Yes, quite. I have several appointments today, and no idea where they are. Would you be able to help me? If you’re not busy, of course.”
She smiled, a small, bashful smile. “Um. I think I’m done for the day.” Millie paused, a sad, distant look overtaking her soft features. “The priest died awhile ago, so there’s no one to check my work.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Are you a religious man, Doctor?”
He shrugged. “I was raised Catholic, but I can’t remember the last time I went to Mass. My poor mother prays for my soul every day…” Xander sighed, thinking of his mother, kneeling and hunched over her rosary. It was near noon - maybe she was doing her lunchtime prayers now? Was she praying for him at this moment? “Are you religious, Miss Millie?”
“I don’t know.” She glanced sideways at him; Xander noticed her eyes flicker to his, then just above his, as she spoke. False eye contact, he noted; her fidgety hands and tapping foot told him what else he needed to know. “I hope… I hope I can be again. After all this.”
“Me too.”
—
After a long day of seeing patients, Xander took Millie to a nearby pub for dinner.
“Do you mind if I ask how old you are?” he asked, hoping his tone implied a wish to know her better, rather than creepiness. Millie was clearly an adult; he was trying to find a polite way to ask her why an adult was still living at an orphanage.
“Twenty-five,” she replied. She glanced at him, then past him, and then back at his face. Her eye contact around him had improved since he’d had her working with him over the past few days. He smiled, feeling a deep surge of pride.
“I’m twenty-nine,” Xander offered in reply. “May I ask… did you have plans to move from the orphanage? And the plague nixed them?”
Millie’s face fell, and Xander winced. He’d hurt her feelings. “Um…” she poked at the pile of mysterious meat on her plate. The waiter had brought their meals without taking their orders – how rude! – but then again, he’d never even brought menus. “Not really,” she finally said. “I grew up there, and Mother Royse and the other nuns let me stay once I would have… aged out.” She added, quite hastily, “I help out. I do chores, clean the chapel. And I tended to Father Harold before he died. It’s not like I was a bum. I help out, I really do.”
Xander’s nose twitched at the notion he’d implied she was a deadbeat; then, he noticed the pinkening of her cheeks, and realized she’d felt embarrassed by her continued living at the orphanage. “I apologize,” he said. “I was just curious, since I moved away from home fairly early.”
“It’s okay. I, um – it’s just… hard to talk about.” She shrugged. “The orphanage is all I’ve ever known. Father Harold and the nuns raised me.” Millie met his gaze and managed to hold it for a few moments longer than usual. “They’re basically my only family. The ones who are left, anyway…”
“No siblings?”
“No. Father Harold told me my parents came to Gloomwood as merchants right before I was born, and then died shortly after. I was an only child. And then, in the orphanage, I was the youngest, so I never really grew up around other kids.”
Xander’s heart panged. How lonely an existence! Jonathan, his elder brother, could be a pain in the neck, but Xander couldn’t imagine life without him or their younger siblings. “I’m sorry.”
“Oh, Doctor Thane, please don’t pity me. I’ve never been good with people, so I would’ve been this way even if there had been kids my age around.” Millie gave him a gentle, easy smile, and once again looked directly at him for a moment. She was the one suffering, yet she made an effort to ensure his comfort?
“I see,” he said, mirroring her smile.
They sat in silence for a few moments, with Xander staring at his food, before Millie spoke. “You should try the jellied crocodreel,” Millie said, pointing to the lump of meat on Xander’s plate.
“Crocodreel,” he repeated, trying not to allow disdain to bleed into his words. He knew what a crocodile was. He knew what an eel was. But… a combination of the creatures? What the hell was this city? “And it’s… jellied, you said?”
Millie nodded; she’d happily stuffed a portion of her own pile of mystery meat into her mouth. “Try it!”
Xander couldn’t think of anything he wanted to do less. But because the girl insisting on him giving it a shot was his current medical assistant and pleasant company, and she’d bared part of her clearly painful history for him, he decided to humor her. It tasted like… meat. Nondescript meat. It could have been worse.
Millie beamed at him from across the table. Xander couldn’t help but smile back.
—
Doctor Thane had begun to teach Millie how to take vital signs so she could assist better in his work. He showed her how to work what he called a sphygmomanometer, which Millie wrote down the name of, so she could practice pronouncing it. He taught her how to count a pulse, and allowed her to borrow his watch so she could do so during examinations. He gave her her very own journal and pen, with heavy, fancy paper, so she could make notes as he assessed patients. He even showed her his prized jar of leeches, which, according to him, every self-respecting doctor should have on hand.
Most excitingly, he allowed her to borrow his copy of a book called Gray’s Anatomy. Millie had once seen the hefty text in a book store; she’d asked the orphanage’s headmistress Mother Royse for a copy, but according to the headmistress, Millie’s birth sex precluded her from learning anything about science. The young lady had learned to sneak scientific texts into her room out of spite after that, but she never could find the first book to spark her curiosity on the matter.
Doctor Thane was explaining something about the bones and ligaments of the hand to her now, but Millie was hardly listening. She simply stared at him, awestruck by his passion and intelligence. His green eyes, always bright, seemed to burn like the sun when he spoke about medicine. She knew that this – saving lives – was what he was made for.
“So those –” Doctor Thane paused, taking Millie’s hand, “are what the extensors do.” He moved her index finger, curling it and uncurling it, demonstrating the way the extensors and tendons moved in tandem. His gloved finger glided over the top of her hand, tracing the ligaments, the deep blue veins prominently visible beneath her porcelain skin. With a sly smile, he asked, “Clear as mud?”
Millie’s face grew warm at his touch. “I… Yes, I think I understand.” She avoided looking at his all-too-handsome face. Hopefully he didn’t think her rude; eye contact was difficult. She used to be better at it, and she had started to get better with the doctor. When did it start to get hard again…?
“It would be easier if I had a cadaver to show you.” Doctor Thane sighed, more to himself than her. “They burn the dead so quickly here – which is good for infection control, but bad for science.” He let go of her hand. “You’re not squeamish, are you?”
“I… don’t know?”
“Hmm. Well, I suppose if we ever get our hands on a cadaver, we’ll find out.”
—
It had been three weeks since Millie had begun her work as Doctor Thane’s assistant. He gave her some of his salary from the Mercantile Council – far more than she deserved – and paid for her meals after a long day of work. In their time together, she’d learned so much from and about the man she now considered a friend. Further, she’d learned more about herself, like how she, at twenty-five, could still feel a giddy schoolgirl’s crush so deeply.
Doctor Thane had taken Millie into Hightown today. She felt horribly nervous; she had only been in this part of the city once, on an errand for Grezzo. The old merchant asked her to fetch an artifact from one of the city’s lords, and she had nearly gone back to him red-faced and empty-handed on account of the fact that the lord couldn’t believe a poor girl from the edge of the Sootworks was actually Grezzo’s aide.
Lord Jamison had snorted when he saw Millie standing next to Doctor Thane on the doorstep. From Grezzo, Millie had heard that Lord Jamison was on the Mercantile Council, and was one to consistently throw his status as nobility around to get what he wanted. To be in his presence felt utterly suffocating.
But the man was sick, and doctors swore oaths to treat everyone. Not that Doctor Thane knew of Lord Jamison’s unpleasantness. Millie tried to look at the lord with fresh eyes; maybe he was better now? Maybe Grezzo had exaggerated?
Doctor Thane had Lord Jamison sit in the drawing room. While he took a history of the patient’s illness, Doctor Thane instructed Millie, “Take his temperature and blood pressure, please.”
Millie took the doctor’s suitcase and began setting his equipment out. When she approached Lord Jamison with the thermometer, stethoscope, and sphygmomanometer, he grumbled under his breath. Doctor Thane eyed the man, but his smile remained easy-going.
“I’ll need to place this cuff on your arm,” Millie said as clinically as possible. If she remained detached and simply did her job, Lord Jamison would have little reason to berate her. Still, she felt his cold eyes on her as she went to put the cuff on him. The lord didn’t move to help her in any way. Millie sighed to herself. If someone was really sick, she didn’t mind if they didn’t, or were unable to, help her. But when someone wasn’t all that ill, and decided to actively make her work harder?
Millie forced the cuff under his arm, since Lord Jamison clearly wasn’t willing to simply lift his arm slightly. She secured it, then began to pump up the cuff, placing the end of the stethoscope in the crook of his arm, finding the thumping of his pulse. The brachial artery was what she was listening to, Doctor Thane had taught her. Despite Lord Jamison’s glowering, Millie’s heart swelled with pride at her learning. She made a note of the man’s blood pressure in her journal.
Once the blood pressure reading was taken, Millie went to place the thermometer in Lord Jamison’s mouth. He scowled. “I can do it myself. I’m not a child.”
“I just wanted – it needs to be placed under your tongue, sir.”
“Sir? Sir?” The lord’s voice was pure venom. “What kind of unrefined street urchin are you? You will address me as ‘my lord’ or not at all!” Doctor Thane was already crossing the room at his tirade, but before he could interrupt, Lord Jamison snatched Millie’s wrist. “Look, there’s dirt on her clothes! Don’t tell me you grabbed the first cheap, eager little fice you found on the street to help you!”
She felt tears begin to well in her eyes, and cursed herself for being such a crybaby. You can’t let him know he’s hurt you, Millie thought, willing herself to remain calm. She could cry later, but right now, she had to remain strong. Doctor Thane had a job to do, and she couldn’t humiliate him by being a blubbering mess.
Doctor Thane paused a few feet away, staring at the man. Though the smile remained on his lips, it was now full of malice; his eyes darkened with contempt, and his grip on his cane was tight. Millie had never seen him angry – no, furious. Doctor Thane drew himself up to his full height. While letting Lord Jamison squirm under his hate-filled gazed, Doctor Thane asked coolly, “Millie, would you please pack up our things? We’re done here.”
“I am ill, doctor, and in case you forgot, you work for the Mercantile Council! You work for me!”
“Seeing as you can speak to my assistant in such an impolite, derogatory manner,” Doctor Thane said icily, “it is my clinical assessment that you are healthy enough to wait for treatment. I have other, much sicker patients to see and triage.” He clicked his cane on the ground, the metal tip ringing against the wood. “Unless you apologize to my assistant for your frankly embarrassing behavior, we will be leaving now.”
Lord Jamison’s jaw clenched. He lifted his shirt, revealing a sprawling rash on his chest.
Doctor Thane stared impassively, his arms crossed. “Yes, and?”
Millie backed up to stand behind the doctor. She’d seen plenty of men duking it out in the street, bashing each others’ brains against cobblestone and grinning victory through bloodied, tooth-gapped mouths. What she hadn’t seen was a verbal altercation like this. Was this how all rich men fought?
Lord Jamison stared right back, unwilling to sacrifice his ego for treatment. Doctor Thane turned to Millie. “Let’s go.”
“Wait!”
The two turned to look at Lord Jamison. He was grumbling under his breath. “Fine. I apologize.” He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
Doctor Thane simpered at the man. “That wasn’t too difficult, was it?” he asked in his pleasant, lilting drawl. Even his snippiest voice sounded like warm honey! “Millie, are you alright with treating Lord Jamison?”
“Yes.” Admittedly, getting close to the man again felt like an impossible task – she was certainly going to bawl over his treatment of her later – but knowing Doctor Thane had her back made her feel a bit better.
“Excellent. We’ll need to take a sample of his lesions.” He glanced at the lord with a smug little grin. “Depending on the results, a leech treatment may be in order. Don’t you agree, Millie?”
—
“I think today was productive,” Doctor Thane said, adjusting his top hat. Snow had begun to fall as he and Millie walked home one evening, forming a thin layer on the brim of his stylish hat. Millie briefly wondered how much it had cost him – his clothes were so fancy, like he would have brushed elbows with the lords of Gloomwood had he not been an outsider. “What do you think?”
Millie tried to ignore her shivering, but her chattering teeth betrayed her. “Y-y-yes. I ag-gree.” She hugged her arms tighter to her body. She was wearing a coat, but she always ran cold.
“Oh, poor thing. Why are you wearing such a thin coat?”
“I w-was using m-m-mine to cover up the n-nuns. Th-they were f-f-freezing, even with the f-f-f-fire.” She glanced at him. “H-how are y-you not c-c-c-cold?!”
The doctor stopped in his tracks. “Millie,” he tsked, “you can’t care for others if you aren’t caring for yourself.” He unwrapped the blue scarf from his neck and set it down over Millie’s shoulders. He wrapped it around her neck twice, making sure it was pulled over her nose and mouth, and sitting comfortably under her ears.
And thank goodness for covering her face, because Millie was certain that despite the cold, her cheeks were burning red.
“There.” He patted her shoulders and smiled. “Better.”
“What about you…?” Millie asked. Her chill-induced stutter vanished with the scarf’s warmth.
“Oh, don’t worry about me. I like the cold,” he replied. “Went hunting with my father and brothers too much not to.”
“You were a hunter?”
“Oh, not like the Huntsmen you have here. It was…” The doctor paused, seemingly weighing what he wanted to say. “Well, it was more of a sport for us. But we did eat what we killed.”
“Ah.”
The orphanage’s chapel came into view far too quickly – Millie wanted to keep walking with her face in the good doctor’s scarf for as long as she could. Oh, well, she mused. At least she’d had this opportunity with him.
Doctor Thane opened the door for her, and Millie stepped inside, turned around, and started to unravel the scarf.
The doctor stopped her. “Keep it for now. I have another just like it back in my room.” He smiled softly. “Besides, we’ll be out walking in the cold tomorrow, right? You’ll need it to keep warm.”
“Oh.” Millie’s face warmed. “Um, thank you, Doctor Thane. Really.” She ran her fingers over the fabric, marvelling at its softness. She’d never held such a fancy piece of clothing – the doctor not only came from money, but he had plenty of his own to spend on such nice things. His cologne filled her senses, drifting off the scarf and filling her head with daydreams.
“See you tomorrow?”
“See you tomorrow.”
He clasped his hands with a wide grin. “Take care, Miss Millie.”
Millie stepped inside the orphanage and watched him leave from the window. Her heartbeat finally slowed when he was out of view.
She pressed the scarf to her nose, drinking in the smell of his cologne. He’d given her the scarf so easily – her, a poor woman who made a paltry living dusting a run-down church. Maybe it was just because she had been shaking so violently, but… he cared about her. The thought made her head spin.
I love him.
Millie felt warmth bloom in her chest at that. I love him, she thought again, and she laughed to herself, like a giddy schoolgirl realizing a crush. Doctor Thane, I love you!
She knew she was being silly, but Millie couldn’t help it. For the first time in years, she felt a true connection to someone. And at the very least, he cared about her.
Maybe, just maybe – she’d allow herself the fantasy – he loved her, too.
—
“Ah, that’s not quite right…”
Xander frowned as he erased the lopsided circle. Normally, drawing after a long day of seeing patients was relaxing; tonight, however, Xander couldn’t seem to get his mind and hand to work in tandem. He sat back in his chair and ran a hand through his auburn locks. Maybe I’m trying too hard, he mused. Thinking about it too much.
He started to sketch once more. The less he thought, the easier the movements came, and soon, a clear visage appeared under his pencil.
Millie…
He sketched in her hair, her round cheeks and soft jawline. Goodness, she was so pretty – he couldn’t help but grin as he doodled, like a schoolboy with a crush. Xander’s mind wandered. Millie had been faithfully assisting with his examinations, leading him from home to home, and overall being extremely pleasant company.
It was also clear she had a crush on him as well, no matter how desperately she tried to hide it.
What a funny little mouse, he thought as he started another doodle. His hand moved of its own accord, and Millie once again materialized on the page. She was so easy to draw, all gentle curves and rounded features, like a porcelain doll brought to life.
As he continued sketching, he drew more of Millie, remembering every silly thing she’d done, every shy glance his way, every gaze she’d held, every kind word. He filled a spread with just her. When he stopped to admire his work, a deep, radiant warmth bloomed in his chest, like the sun shone between his ribs.
Oh…
A grin spread across his face. How’d he let himself become such a soft-hearted, lovesick fool? Not that he minded – not for Millie, anyway.
—
Things were dire in Gloomwood.
The plague had continued to spread like wildfire; nothing Doctor Thane had done had cured a single patient. Despite remaining steadfast to his cause, Millie could see the endless suffering and lack of an answer was wearing on him. Heavy bags hung under his eyes like storm clouds, and a few strands of silvery hair had started to manifest at his temples. He hadn’t shaved in at least a few days, and while he was quite handsome that way, Millie knew he hadn’t had the energy or willpower to shave, and that broke her heart.
He’d come to the orphanage’s door late in the night. Millie was the only one left; the sisters had all passed at once two evenings prior, and the city constables had scooped them up and burned them as soon as they heard, much to Doctor Thane’s chagrin. How the cops had managed to find out so quickly left a sour taste in Millie’s mouth. She hadn’t told anyone. In fact, she had been on the way out the door to alert Doctor Thane so he could dissect them when the constables arrived, snorting and beating their batons on the walls.
He sat in one of the beat-up upholstered chairs before the fire. The light of the flames danced along his auburn locks and cast deep shadows on his handsome face. Millie watched him from her place beside a window, admiring how beautiful he looked, even in such a haggard state.
“I’m leaving Gloomwood tonight,” he said.
“What?” A hole opened up in her stomach.
“I’ll be back,” Doctor Thane assured her. “I… I’m not capable of treating this plague alone. I’ve written hundreds of letters to my colleagues, and none have answered.” He glanced at the windows, and seeing the curtains were drawn tight, he relaxed some. “I have reason to think they’re not making it out of the city at all.”
“Doctor…” She paused. “I believe you. But I don’t know how you’re going to get out.” The constabulary had effectively shut the city down, imposing a strict curfew and restricting traffic into and out of Gloomwood.
“I snuck past the coppers to get here, didn’t I?” He stood and crossed the room, stopping before Millie. Her face became hot as he took her hands and squeezed. “Don’t you worry, little mouse. I’ll sneak out and be back with help before you can blink.”
Little mouse? Millie wanted to melt into a puddle. She’d never been called such a sweet name before. She was sure the good doctor could feel the heat radiating off her face.
“Be safe,” she mumbled.
“I will. I’m more worried about you. You have enough food to hole up here for awhile, don’t you?”
“Yes.” Since she was the only one living at the orphanage, she didn’t have to worry about not having enough to eat.
“Good. Don’t leave, okay? If you can, keep the lights off, even during the day. Keep the curtains closed, and don’t answer the door if anyone comes knocking.” Though his expression was soft, his tone was deadly serious.
“I can answer if it’s you, right?” Millie wasn’t sure where this bold flash came from, but she both instantly regretted and was exhilarated by it.
“Please answer if it’s me.” He chuckled, a sly grin on his lips.
She forced a smile back at him. Though his departure was like a knife in her chest, she trusted he would come back to Gloomwood with help. Why wouldn’t he?
“I’ll miss you, Doctor.”
“Xander,” he said. “You can call me Xander.”
Oh, right. Millie had almost forgotten he had a real name, not just Doctor Thane. “I’ll miss you, Xander.”
—
“Doctor!” Millie dropped her knitting and ran across the room to hug him, then, remembering what he’d said before he left, she corrected herself. “Xander, I mean. I’m so glad to see you!”
“Millie!” Grezzo scolded, “Get off him! The man’s had a hard day, he doesn’t need you hanging all over him like a circus monkey!”
“It’s fine,” Doctor Thane – no, Xander – replied.
Millie then remembered that hugging a man she wasn’t related to was improper, and let him go. “Sorry – I didn’t mean to be impolite, I just–”
“It’s fine,” he insisted, a true smile blossoming on his face. “I haven’t been hugged in a long time. It felt very nice.” He took Millie’s hand, raised it to his lips, and pressed a soft kiss to it. “I’m happy to see you, too. My lady.” The last words he whispered into her skin; they were for her and her alone. “What are you doing here?”
Millie’s knees became mush and she had to fight to keep standing. His lady? Oh, only in her dreams! She forced herself out of her reverie to answer his question. “Remember my friend Grezzo? He invited me here, to keep safe.”
Grezzo coughed, and Millie flushed, pulling her hand back but still smiling shyly. “Oh, goodness, um, let me take your coat. Please, please. Sit down. Make yourself at home.”
When he handed her his coat, it took all of Millie’s strength not to bury her face in it. Despite his long trek through the city (and a faint fishy smell?), the scent of his cologne hung heavy on the fabric. She’d missed it so…
As Xander got settled, with Grezzo leading him to the upstairs room, Millie hung his coat and smoothed out the crinkles. If they had enough water, she’d wash his clothes, maybe encourage him to take a bath… for sure she’d cook him a nice, hot meal.
Look at you, Millie. Finally cooking for a man! She laughed to herself. She’d never once thought she’d be in love ever again, much less daydreaming of domestic bliss. Millie went to the kitchen and started to rifle through Grezzo’s cupboards.
She’d always heard that the fastest way to a man’s heart was through his stomach. Maybe if she cooked up a good enough dinner, Xander would fall hopelessly in love with her, like she was with him.
—
Xander had returned early that night, much to Grezzo’s annoyance. The doctor had planned to get to the Underport that evening, but a scuffle with a gang of batbeasts had gone awry, causing him to retreat back to the Emerald Eye.
Millie took him upstairs to clean him up. Xander sat rather broodily in a chair, clearly licking his wounds. He perked up, however, when Millie approached with a basin of clean water and a washcloth. Or was she imagining things?
“This might sting. Sorry,” Millie said, lightly dabbing at Xander’s cheek with the wet cloth. He winced but admirably stayed as still as he could. He cast a glance at Millie, and grinned when she caught his gaze. Millie felt her face growing warm. Damn him, and his unfathomably handsome face… Looking at him had started to become difficult again. Could he see what a fool she was for him? Certainly, considering how her face always seemed to become beet red around him these days. Millie cursed herself for wearing her emotions so openly.
The doctor placed a hand over hers as she cleaned the wound again, and Millie gasped softly. She tried to pull her hand back, but Xander curled his fingers over hers. “Xander…?”
He chuckled, his bright green eyes lidded. “You really are going to make me beg, aren’t you?”
“Huh?” Millie blinked. His dark, hooded eyes, his low, rumbling drawl of voice… was he…? “Are you… flirting with me?”
Xander stared at her, dumbfounded, then laughed. “I have been since we first met. But thank you for finally noticing.”
“Oh.” Millie squeezed the water from the cloth and stared into the basin – anything to avoid looking at him.
“Hey. Look here, mousey.” He reached up to caress her cheek, force her to look into those impossibly green eyes. “You don’t have to say anything, or actively reciprocate. Just know… I’m really quite fond of you.”
“I, um… I do reciprocate. A lot.” The fancy-sounding word felt heavy on her tongue. Reciprocate: to feel the same way.
He feels the same way I do!
He smirked devilishly. “I know.”
“Then why’d you say that!”
“To get exactly that reaction. You’re predictable, little mousey.”
Millie glared at him, but his bright, relaxed smile shattered any annoyance she might have had at him. “Does this mean, um… we’re together?”
“Do you want to be?”
“More than anything,” she confessed, the words tumbling from her like an avalanche.
“Then I’m yours, and you’re mine.” Xander stood, clasping her little hands in his large, warm ones. “You’re the one good thing left in this city, Millie. And I’ll be damned if I lose you now that I have you.”
She felt light as a feather in that moment; all those silly daydreams had come true. Millie pressed her face into his chest and listened to the ba-dum, ba-dum of the heart she now knew beat only for her.