Meggie turned her face to Fenoglio, her eyes aflame, as though they were trying to burn holes through his skin. Behind them, the boy slipped through the door and out into the rain. "Leave him alone! He can visit me whenever he likes!" she said, her words spilling from her lips like venomous poison. He watched her turn from the window and run across the room, following the boy down the stairs.
Sighing, he turned back to the window to watch the new Cosimo stop by a lighted window and scratch his head, as though he had forgotten his path. Damn it all, Fenoglio, you fool. What sort of game are you playing with death? He turned away from the window and walked over to his desk, laying the paper that Meggie had left on the sill next to Rosenquartz. His little transparent chest was rising and falling irregularly, as though he was faking his sleep. Fenoglio thought of spraying some of the ink next to him onto the little face, which was now twitching with the suppression of a hidden smile. Go on Rosenquartz, laugh at my old age. But when Meggie comes back up with a broken heart, don't expect me to comfort her.
Meggie had left the door to the stairs ajar, and he could hear the boy speaking to her, sounding anxious. He passed a hand over his face and closed his eyes. He could still see the boy's hurt look, his cheeks tearstained with jealousy and worry, and now anger. He supposed he ought to go down and apologize.
The voices stopped for a moment outside. He opened his eyes and felt a cascade of weariness fall upon his shoulders. Perhaps he shouldn't have been so hard on the boy. After all, how was he to have known that Meggie was reading something, no matter how important that something was? Yes, he thought as he picked up the lantern on his desk, have you forgotten what it was like to be in love, old man?
He made his way to the door carefully, as the ground was slippery with rain. He could hear the boy saying something softly, as though trying to persuade her to do something. Fenoglio paused and listened, wondering what on earth he might be interrupting, and whether or not he had any business interrupting it.
"…it runs away. Well, Jehan's still just a baby, but I think you'd like him…" the boy was saying. Fenoglio heard a brief moment of silence, and he took a few more steps, so that he was now standing at the top of the stairs. He saw the boy holding one of Meggie's hands, and with the other, she was tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
"Is he Dustfinger's son?" she asked quietly, and Fenoglio saw her try to smile, heavy as the rain was. Fenoglio drew in a sharp breath. Did Dustfinger have a son, he asked himself. He couldn't remember.
"No," the boy said to her, as though offended that Meggie would think that Dustfinger was capable of loving anyone but himself. "But guess what? Roxanne thinks I am. Imagine that!" His voice had swelled with pride, and Fenoglio imagined that the boy did rather fancy himself to be Dustfinger's son. He chuckled at the thought. "Please, Meggie! Come to Roxane's, do!" The boy spoke softly now, and Fenoglio smiled sadly. He was trying to convince her to run away! He wasn't sure if Meggie would like that very much, and he had half a mind to run down the stairs and stop her, but he was fairly positive that she would stop the boy of her own accord.
The street below was silent, except for the rain falling on the cobblestone. Fenoglio raised his lantern and squinted through the downpour. He took a few more steps down and saw clearly that the boy's hands were on Meggie's shoulders. Their faces were very close, and suddenly Fenoglio felt that he was very out of place, and seeing something that he certainly shouldn't be. But however hard he tried, he couldn't bring himself to turn away. The boy lowered his lips onto Meggie's, and she didn't pull away. Well, fancy that old man! Suppose she loves him after all!
The boy pulled away from her and even from his perch, Fenoglio could see a boyish grin steal across his face. He lowered his lips to hers again and they kissed more passionately, as though they'd never see each other again, and Fenoglio wondered why he hadn't added more love scenes to his stories. Wondrous stories of forbidden love, of love that defies all reason, he thought, and for a moment, new stories began to weave themselves in his head. He felt a sudden urge to write a love story into this story of evil, a love story that would have a happy ending for once. But as he watched the boy pull away from her and kiss her forehead, her nose, and then on her mouth once more, he realized that the love story he needed was right before his eyes.
All thoughts of apologizing were swept from his head as he watched Meggie step closer to him, reaching her arms around his neck, and the boy began to kiss down her jaw and neck before moving back to her lips. Fenoglio's eyes clouded, and he thought he could feel their love emanating all the way up to him, through the rain and the darkness. When they finally broke apart, the boy whispered something in her ear that made her glow, and then he turned on his heel and ran off into the sheets of rain, shouting "You must come! Maybe you'd better stay with us for a while—Dustfinger and me, I mean! That old man is crazy. You don't go playing games with the dead!" before disappearing into the night.
Fenoglio watched Meggie raise her hand to her lips, a look of bewilderment on her face. Then, with a jolt as quick as if reality had slapped him, his mind snapped back to the present. He thought of her father and what he would say if he found out what he had let the couple do, and had half a mind to run after the boy and make him apologize to Meggie. Live with him indeed! But as soon as he saw her standing in the rain, her fingers still on her lips, gazing into the darkness he had run into, he knew he couldn't bring himself to do it. So he simply climbed back to the top of the stairs and decided to pretend as though he had seen nothing. Turning on the step, he tried to act as though he had just walked out of the room.
"Meggie?" he said, raising his lantern. She turned up toward him, her face flooding with red. He pretended he hadn't noticed. "What are you doing down there? Has the boy gone? What did he want? Standing around in the dark there with you!" As if he didn't know. He trudged back into his room and placed the lantern back onto his desk. It was a while before he heard Meggie come back up, and when he looked at her, she appeared to be more confused than ever with herself. Fenoglio waited until she had gotten into her bed before bidding her goodnight and closing the door. There you have it, Inkweaver, he thought as he made his way down the stairs. She's got a heart for someone other than her family after all…