#24 – Touch

Rachel

"Hawks don't mate for life," Tobias said through a mouthful of pizza. I'd brought a medium pepperoni out to his meadow, and he'd morphed to human to eat it with me. I try to do something like that at least once a week. Something to remind him that he's human…but even more than that, it's to remind him that someone cares about him. A lot.

I wasn't sure how we'd gotten onto this topic, but the matter-of-fact way he made that comment really bugged me. As if he were saying that since he was half-hawk, he wouldn't mate for life, either. Crude way of shooting down a "happily ever after," if you ask me. I was two seconds away from making a comment I'd probably regret when I looked at him and saw the grin on his face. He'd been needling me the whole time, the jerk.

I still didn't let it go entirely, though. "Humans don't necessarily mate for life, either. My mom and dad were in love. That's a fact. Now they can barely stand each other."

He kept right on grinning and munching his pizza enthusiastically. "Yeah, that's true. But if we're going on absolutes…kids can't turn into animals. Aliens don't exist. Parasites can't take control of a brain and steal bodies."

I rolled my eyes. "What are you getting at, Tobias?"

"I'm just saying that the normal rules don't apply to us. After this is all over, if we want to be together forever, we can be. It's up to the two of us and no one else."

I got thoughtful for a minute when he said that, imagining what life would be like with Tobias. Just the two of us, without the pressures of the war and the secrets. It was pretty great to imagine. The one thing that worried me was big – it might even be a deal breaker. I couldn't be with a boy who spent most of his time as a hawk, no matter how much I loved him. It was fine for now, because there wasn't any other choice. He couldn't give up the power to morph for me – the humans needed him and I wouldn't let him even if he were willing.

On the other hand, I loved him too much to ask him to give up his wings, when this mess was all over. It was the neatest, most horrible Catch-22 I could ever imagine.

As usual, he seemed to be able to read my mind. He put his slice of pizza down and stared into my eyes. "Do you think I love flying more than I love you?" he asked.

"Do you?" I shot back before I could get a handle on my mouth. Even though I regretted the question as soon as it was out, I didn't take it back. Damage was done, so I let it hang. To my everlasting relief, he smiled and reached out and took my hand.

The tips of his fingers in my palm felt like they were mildly electrified. His thumb rubbed along the back of my hand, and I thought I could feel his love for me in that small motion. I knew that was absolutely ridiculous and impossible, but I felt it just the same. Feelings aren't always rational, but this one was a whopper of irrationality.

He caught and held my gaze. "This -" he said, indicating where he was holding my hand. "This touch should tell you the answer to that question." And he was right, it did. At that moment, I was sure which one he would pick when given a choice between flying and me.

He gently used the grip on my hand to tug me toward him. "And if it's not enough, then maybe this will clear things up." He met me halfway and kissed me softly over the box of pizza. It wasn't some obnoxious, overly-romantic, "oh baby I have to have you" kiss. It was gentle, and kind, and full of love.

He broke the kiss before I did and looked at me anxiously. He was wondering if he'd gone too far. I grinned ruefully at him. "You know, for a guy who claims to be awkward and shy, you're not a half-bad Romeo."

Relief flooded his face, and he laughed loudly. He flipped open the box and grabbed another slice of pizza. "Thanks for this. Thanks for everything."

I smiled and got another piece for myself. "Anytime."