NOVPUBTrust Like Glass
3
When Astra returned home, the lights were off. The only sound came from wind brushing the leaves outside. She told herself not to care about the emptiness waiting inside, but the disappointment still came.
The Council had issued this house as a temporary base, but she had claimed it as her safehouse in more ways than one. Her private space, where plants and living things were allowed to grow. Boston ivy once green now blushed red against the white-washed walls, slowly peeling away as the weather grew colder.
Seeing them helped her acknowledge that time had passed. Her body had a way of ignoring the natural weather. Ignoring time, too.
She still looked like the day she’d first arrived here.
The house fooled her into feeling briefly human. Because after so many years of running, and then years of running missions, she had almost forgotten what it meant to belong somewhere.
Not that she could even remember what that felt like.
She had trusted someone more than anyone once. Indigo. He shared little, always insisting it was for her safety. But she stayed.
He’d hidden truths, yes, but he’d never lied.
Until now.
Her fingers tightened around the earphone case in her pocket as she sat in the dark. She had grown used to being alone. Most days, she preferred it.
The silence didn’t used to matter. But now…now it did. Now it felt like Eydis had taken something with her when she left.
“Idiot,” she whispered to herself.
Why would Eydis wait? Astra had walked out in the middle of their date, right when they were about to—
Her cheeks warmed, fingers tightening around the edge of the dining table. The memory was too vivid, too close. The ghost of Eydis's breath against her neck, of her long, slender fingers tightening on her thighs–No. She wasn’t going to finish that thought. Not when Eydis wasn’t here.
Not when it burned.
That week when Eydis had shared this house had settled into her life in ways she hadn’t let herself want.
Astra pictured her again, sitting at her kitchen counter like she belonged there, waiting for Astra to pass her a cup of coffee. She remembered how Eydis accepted the simplest meals with a smile that was almost too warm, too soft to be part of any act.
And despite everything, Astra had found herself hesitating, unable to bring herself to name what she already suspected.
That Eydis wasn’t just Eydis. That she might be Pride.
Astra had spent too long chasing the ghost of a memory. And when it finally stood in front of her, she froze. Because she could only think of one question.
What would the truth do to us?
So she delayed. Something she almost never did.
One more day.
Then another.
It wasn’t until Eydis chose to open up that something between them changed. Permanently. Astra hadn’t fully shared her own story, only enough, but she knew she wasn’t expected to.
Eydis had never asked. Not because she didn’t care, but because she did.
As if Astra mattered to her.
Astra combed her fingers through her hair, stopping when she caught the lingering scent of lavender. Planting it crossed her thoughts, even though Eydis’s affection for the flower had always confused her.
Lavender had always seemed too delicate, too soft. She would have expected something refined to suit a woman like Eydis. To Astra, that had always been smoke, leather, and something…
cedar-rich.
The idea startled her.
Was she trying to paint Eydis in her own palette?
She hid her face in her palms, even though no eyes were watching, even though the blush was hers alone to feel. One moment, she was disconnected from her feelings; the next, they felt illicit, and drawn once again to Eydis.
It made no sense to miss her like this, only hours after hearing her voice.
But now she saw the truth. She might never ask what they were, but the question wouldn’t leave her alone.
Questions, really. Too many of them.
Did Eydis feel it too? This impossible closeness that came from nowhere and refused to leave?
Ever since their first kiss, Astra had found it harder and harder to stay away. And the way Eydis leaned in just a little too often, the way their shoulders brushed when they walked side by side, too intentional to be pure accident…
It stirred something dangerous. Something called hope.
Did Eydis ever smile at the thought of Astra the way Astra now caught herself smiling without meaning to?
If so, why hadn’t she said anything either?
Or had Astra simply been a curiosity?
Was that why Eydis had left without a word?
Astra pulled out her phone.
No message.
A sudden clicking noise snapped her out of the spiral. Astra’s head shot up. That wasn’t a possum. It wasn’t normal for anything to nest on her roof.
But paranoia had its uses.
She rose and moved toward the exit, already preparing to conjure a blade.
Barefoot, she stepped lightly onto the dark green terracotta tiles. The night air was cool against her skin, but the sight waiting for her stole the breath from her lungs, and something else too.
Her heart.
There sat Eydis, staring into the starless sky. Alchymia’s city lights had a way of swallowing the stars, but Eydis didn’t seem to mind. She looked peaceful, almost unreal. The wind stirred her dark hair gently, as if it, too, wanted to touch her.
Astra’s heart quickened. It always did.
Then, Eydis turned, and in that quiet smile, Astra saw not just fondness, but the answer to every question she hadn’t voiced.
“Hello ther—”
The words never finished.
Astra crossed the distance and silenced her with a kiss.
Eydis froze briefly before responding in kind. Not rushed, not hungry. Slow and certain. Like she was telling Astra, without a word, we have time.
Time for this. Time for each other.
When she finally pulled back, she studied Astra carefully, and something shifted in her expression. What she saw, she clearly didn’t like.
There was a dangerous edge to her voice when she spoke. “Who dared to do this to you?”
Astra blinked, confused, until Eydis’s thumb brushed away a tear she hadn’t noticed had fallen. Only then did she realised how openly her feelings had betrayed her. Eydis had a way of drawing things out of Astra that she didn’t mean to show.
Refreshing, somehow.
“It’s your fault,” Astra admitted.
Eydis looked panicked, and the sight was rare enough that Astra tucked the memory away without meaning to.
“What did I do?”
“You,” Astra said simply. “Just… being you.”
“Ah. Not vague at all,” Eydis said dryly, though her eyes softened. “If I’d known simply existing had such devastating effects, I might have issued a formal advisory.”
“Eydis.” Astra sighed, but her shoulders eased, and Eydis caught the change, because she was smiling now.
“So I’m both the problem and the solution,” Eydis murmured, leaning in just enough to make it feel like a secret. “That feels oddly efficient.”
Astra found herself smiling. “You’re a dork, Your Majesty.”
Eydis gasped. “That’s slander. I command shadows, Astra. But yes, let’s go with dork.”
Astra rolled her eyes and leaned in again, but something warm brushed her lips, stopping her short. It smelled like meat and spices, with a hint of charcoal and just the faint trace of rosemary. She pulled back and looked down.
“A lamb skewer?”
Eydis’s grin was far too smug, one Astra wanted to wipe off, preferably with her mouth.
“I figured you’d be hungry,” Eydis said innocently.
“Did you make it?” Astra eyed the skewer suspiciously. It smelled amazing and perfectly seasoned, which immediately disqualified Eydis as the cook.
Eydis, at best, could manage instant ramen. And that was being generous. Maybe Astra should show her what real ramen tasted like, just a thought for later.
How could one make seafo—
“Please,” Eydis said. “Do I look like I can cook?”
Astra didn’t even blink. “Not even a little.”
“Mildly hurtful, wildly accurate. But, luckily, I’ve cultivated other skills. Like summoning food.”
“They deliver all the way up here?” Astra raised an eyebrow.
“Not they,” Eydis said with a smirk, producing a takeaway container filled with warm skewers and crispy chips. “Cerberus does. It’s—He’s a very good boy. Knows where the good food is and how to pass for human. Most of the time.”
“That’s it,” Astra said. “Gluttony’s my favourite.”
“Envy will be devastated,” Eydis said, smile tugging softer this time. “But it’s true. They all like you, you know. Secretly.”
Astra told herself not to feel it. She shouldn’t have read too much into it. But somehow, those words had found their mark.
“They?” she nudged, gently. “Do they… feel what you feel?”
Eydis blinked, slowly. Like she was processing more than the question.
Or maybe avoiding the answer.
Astra saw it but didn’t press further. She didn’t want an answer born out of pressure.
She didn’t dare.
Instead, she leaned in and took a piece of meat from the skewer, lips brushing it lightly before pulling it free. She licked the lingering sauce from her bottom lip, meeting Eydis’s darkened gaze like a challenge.
“Delicious.”
Eydis watched her with something that began as amusement but shifted into something else. It was the kind of look Astra never allowed herself to analyse, let alone hope for. But it made her chest tighten every time.
“Should I be jealous of a lamb skewer?” she asked.
“You really shouldn’t be,” Astra whispered. Her voice came out lower than she meant. She hesitated, pulse spiking, and then let the words fall before they died on her tongue.
“Because I like you more than I like food.”
Eydis froze like the words had caught her off guard. Like she didn’t expect Astra to be the one to say it first.
Was she actually blushing?
Astra’s fingers tightened in her lap, and her heart refused to slow. She didn’t mean to say it, not like that, not now. But another voice, deep in her mind, kept wondering. Kept questioning. Vulnerable in a way she hated.
“I—” Eydis started, then caught herself, shifting too quickly into a familiar smile. “Well. That’s either the most romantic thing anyone’s said to me… or the most dangerous.”
Astra didn’t smile. She knew that deflection intimately. “Dangerous?” she questioned softly, not trusting her voice to do anything else.
“I mean, being compared to food,” Eydis tried again. “Something you ea—” She stopped abruptly.
And just like that, the tension eased. Astra bit back a smile. It was rare to see Eydis undone, mortified, even a little. And it was… unfairly endearing.
“Something I eat, yes,” Astra said, a little braver. “I like to savour things. Especially the ones I shouldn’t.”
That earned her a sharp intake of breath from Eydis. Then she leaned in slowly, her tongue brushing lightly over Astra’s lower lip, chasing the nonexistent trace of the sauce.
“Mmm, you’re right… delicious.” Then, softer, she whispered, “But for the record, I like you more than I like food too.”
Astra’s heart skipped, tripped, and struggled to recover. “Not very flattering,” she said, too breathless to pass for unimpressed.
“Double standards,” Eydis teased, her smile drifting back to infuriating.
“You barely tolerate food,” Astra muttered. She knew she was being childish, that she wanted to push Eydis, and she feared the answer all the same; she had never realised she could be this contradictory.
Eydis tilted her head, eyes shining now, more gentle than mischievous. She leaned forward and placed a kiss on Astra’s nose.
“Let me clarify,” she murmured. “I really like you.”
Another kiss followed, soft against Astra’s cheek. “Astronomically.”
Then her lips found Astra’s again. Too brief, but it left Astra breathless. “Catastrophically.”
When she pulled back, her thumb brushed slow circles across Astra’s cheek, and her eyes were unguarded in a way Astra rarely saw.
“Romantically.”
The words slipped out as a sigh. Quiet, honest, a confession. And it sank, slow and deep into Astra’s heart.
Astra let out a breath she had been holding for too long, and a genuine laugh escaped her lips.
“Do you ever stop being dramatic?”
“But you laughed.” Eydis tried for playful, but Astra caught the uncertainty beneath her smile.
“I like you romantically too,” Astra murmured against her lips, fingers tracing the curve of her wrist. “Possibly just as catastrophically.”
“Good,” Eydis said with a sigh of relief, her eyes fluttering shut, pulse fluttering in time with Astra’s touch. “I was about to spiral into embarrassment.”
Astra laughed again, despite everything. “You’re such a dork, Your Majesty.”
Gods.
She'd missed this.
Missed her.
Astra would never say it aloud.
But returning to this place, and finding Eydis sitting there waiting, had never felt more like coming home, like she truly belonged.
For all her reluctance, she could no longer pretend it was just a passing feeling.
