Life at the bookstore had calmed somewhat, and no one was paying much attention to the matter with Leo. It was clear, however, that the situation could change at any moment.
There wasn't a single trace of him anywhere. Even regaining my memories hadn't helped. I knew he frequently changed locations, so there wasn't the slightest chance of finding him somewhere I'd already been. I just trained every day, meticulously hiding the evidence afterward to ensure no one suspected a thing.
Tonight, it's just Cody and me running the place. The others are off dealing with a first-level demon they discovered. Since the threat was minor, they insisted I stay behind.
I'd like to be angry with them for this, but I can't. The secret training sessions, the nightmares, and my lack of appetite have taken their toll. My body feels heavy as if the weight of exhaustion has seeped into my very bones.
Sitting across the bar, I glance at Cody, who's busy folding towels. He seems deeply focused on the task, so I don't bother him for a while. The bookstore is already closed so it's just the two of us.
Lately, I feel quite uneasy around him. Perhaps I'm still beating myself up over that outburst. Or maybe I'm afraid of crossing boundaries.
"What are you staring at?" he finally asks, not lifting his eyes from the table.
Caught in the act, I feel a bit flustered, but an odd habit emerges.
"Can't help it—you're easy on the eyes," I blurt, immediately wanting to bash my head against the bar for such nonsense.
Cody glances up, raising an eyebrow.
"Do you flirt with everyone like this?" he asks, his phrasing catching me off guard.
"I don't flirt at all," I reply.
And it's true. But for some reason, Cody makes me act like a complete idiot.
"Really?"
"What's the point of flirting when I'm like this?" I say without hesitation. "I live for my work; I'll probably die because of it. Is there any sense in investing time in anything else?"
"Relax. You don't have to get so defensive—I was joking," Cody snorts. "But even as you are, you could still have someone by your side."
He walks around the bar and sits down beside me. I stare at him, understanding he's speaking sincerely. His words bring a sad smile to my face.
"I've got too many problems," I sigh, absently fiddling with a napkin. "Besides, you're enough. Honestly, you've brought some variety to our otherwise boring lives."
Cody leans in slightly, his expression turning serious.
"Then at least respect me. Hurting others doesn't make you stronger," he says, the weight in his tone unmistakable.
It's not his words that catch me off guard—it's the strange flutter in my chest, stirred by the faint edge in his voice.
"Sorry," I murmur. "You know I didn't mean to."
"I do," he replies, his voice gentler now. "You've apologized more than enough. That's not the point. If something's wrong, talk it out."
A shiver runs through me. How does he always know what's going on inside my head?
"Thanks," I reply softly. "I think I'll go train for a bit. See you."
"Wait," Cody's voice stops me as I turn to leave. "Can I join you?"
I glance back, raising an eyebrow.
"Since when do you want to train with me? I thought you liked a challenge—that's why you chose Arthur," I tease.
"Well, he's not here today, is he? Besides, it'd be nice to unwind," he says, and the idea grows on me.
I hesitate, but deep down, I already know I can't refuse.
"Show me what you've got," I smile, and we head to the basement.
We agree it'll be more fun to spar freestyle, with only one rule: no low blows. We don't bother with gloves or wraps. It's just the two of us in the ring, no distractions.
For a moment, I study Cody. He stands before me, serious and focused, though the spark in his eyes betrays his excitement. Maybe I stare too long—his wavy hair falls perfectly over his slightly flushed face, making him look striking.
His first move snaps me out of it. He lunges with a punch, but I sidestep quickly, grabbing his arm to pull him into a counter. He twists out of my grip with a fluid motion—I recognize it as one of Arthur's techniques.
"Arthur taught you some gems, huh?" I grin, stepping back cautiously.
"More than a few," he says with a mischievous smile.
The fight becomes a blur of strikes and counters. Our movements are fast and genuine, the kind of sparring where you forget everything else.
Eventually, we find ourselves grappling at close range, gripping each other by the elbows. For a moment, the struggle goes nowhere. Then Cody's sly smile returns. He spreads his stance, slips one arm under my armpit, and firmly grabs the edge of my hoodie with the other.
In one swift motion, he hooks his leg behind mine and throws me off balance. As I twist mid-air, instincts take over—I grab his bicep with one hand and the back of his shirt with the other, pulling him down with me.
We crash onto the mat, groaning from the impact. When I turn my head, I realize how close we've landed—our faces mere inches apart.
"Well, I didn't expect this," Cody says, his breath brushing my skin.
"Neither did I," I reply, though not referring to the same thing.
What I didn't expect was my heart pounding like crazy. I could come up with a hundred excuses for why it's racing, but I know they'd all be hollow. The truth is, it's him—he's the reason.
Time seems to pause. We lie there, face-to-face, both breathing heavily. My gaze keeps darting between his clear hazel eyes and his lips, then back again. I'd bet he's noticed. But I stay still, and so does he. We just lie there, inches apart.
This isn't for you, a voice in my head whispers. A tainted soul has no right to want things like this.