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Calax was supposed to be the brave and fearless leader, for that I was what I always perceived him as. The sudden change from a prowling tiger to a shriveling boy scared me a little.

“If you wanted me to leave, you only had to ask nicely. No need to be an ass,” I snarked, coming to sit beside him. His head whipped in my direction, back towards the pond, and then towards me again in a dramatic double-take. It would’ve been comical if there hadn’t been tears in his eyes.

“Addie?” His voice was so soft I almost didn’t hear it. “Baby?”

“It’s me, Callie,” I said.

Instead of the relief I expected, Calax began to laugh. Like full on, clutch your stomach and fall to the ground type of laughter. Way to make a girl feel wanted. He needed to up his game.

“What’s so funny?” I demanded. I really didn’t appreciate being the butt of the joke. I much preferred the face of it.

Focus, Addie.

“You still speak your thoughts,” he said, wiping tears from his eyes. “I didn’t think my imagination would be that creative.”

Imagination? Oh, hell no.

“I’m not your imagination, Big Guy. I’m flesh and blood. I’m a real girl now. The girl-Pinocchio.”

He chuckled again, turning his head to stare at me directly. From this position, the moonlight illuminated his features in a pale glow.

He looked like shit, and not the sexy kind either.

Not that shit could be sexy. But Calax could, and I always claimed he looked like shit, so I supposed...

Stop. Thinking.

Even in the semi-darkness, I could see the deep bags under his eyes. His face held the evidence of a beard, dark like his hair and prickly. I wondered when he had last shaved. Or showered. Or did anything, really, besides mope around and hallucinate me.

I wondered if he jacked off to my image. I wondered if he-

I really needed to just get a new brain. That would be much easier.

“Did I die?” Calax asked. “Is this Heaven?”

I couldn’t help but smile. I was flattered that he thought of being with me as the equivalent to Heaven. Flattered...and a little scared. Not of Calax, but of the feelings he brought out in me.

“Trust me. You wouldn’t make it there,” I teased, swatting his shoulder. “Now what do I have to do to convince you that I am real?”

“You’re dead. I saw your body as the paramedics took you away. I saw...” he broke off, dropping his face into his hands. I hated seeing him like this. He was my grouchy giant, not my depressed one. Gah. Even in my not-real-death, he still found ways to irritate me. I really wanted to decapitate Calax with a piece of paper at this moment. It would’ve been one hell of a papercut.

“I’m not fucking dead, you idiot! But you’re going to be if you don’t calm down.”

He still looked doubtful, face pensive, so I did the only thing I could think to do.

I kissed him.

For a moment, he froze beneath me, and I wondered if I had read his text wrong. Maybe he meant that he loved me as a sister, and I was performing, in his mind, some serious incestual action here. Maybe the text wasn’t even meant for me-

His large hand cupped the back of my neck, tangling in my hair. He lips moved hungrily over mine as he thoroughly ravaged my mouth. Tiny licks of fire danced across my skin with each and every stroke of his hand. His tongue tentatively touched my bottom lip, demanding entrance, and I happily complied.

His arms were incredibly gentle as they rested on either side of me in the wheelchair. It reminded me of the way my parents regarded fine chinaware: something precious and extremely valuable.

His kisses turned soft, light brushes of lips to mine.

“Addie.” He said my name reverently. Total ego booster.

“Callie.”