Page 143 of The Elf Beside Himself

But I agreed to keep what I knew to myself, at least for a few days, although I wasn’t happy about it.

“No, he went home. He said he wanted to get some dirt time.” Taavi’s lips twitched. “Your mother offered the back yard, and I thought your dad was going to have an aneurysm.”

Dirt timewas Elliot’s way of saying he needed to go shift and dig himself a giant mudhole somewhere.

I didn’t blame him. I also kind of wanted to crawl into a mudhole.

Then again, a mudhole was an awful lot like a grave.

Nope. No mudholes for me. Definitely not into mudholes.

I assumed that Gregory might have gone with Elliot, because the cold spots had stopped once I’d gotten into the house. Or maybe he’d just figured that I had my parents and Taavi and no longer needed his cold comfort. Either way, I was grateful—both for his absence now and for his presence throughout the day.

Then I noticed that Taavi had brought up a bowl of crackers, a banana, and a jar of peanut butter. He noticed me notice. “You need to eat something,” he said gently. “I know you don’t want to, but these are pretty mild.”

I sighed and sat on the bed, already wearing only my boxer briefs and a t-shirt. “It’s just going to come back up at four in the morning, anyway,” I grumbled.

Taavi scooted so that he could put an arm around my waist, resting his cheek against my back. “I brought you a bucket.”

I wasn’t sure whether I thought that was sweet or just disturbing.

“Buckets and saltines aren’t my idea of a romantic date night,” I tried to joke.

Taavi let out half a chuff. “Mine, either,” he murmured.

* * *

It was two-thirty,not four. And Taavi had thoughtfully lined the bucket with a trash bag so it wouldn’t have to be rinsed out, not that I was the one who ended up cleaning up after me.

I lay on top of the covers, staring up at the ceiling as cold sweat and tears dried on my skin, wondering if I’d ever stop having nightmares. Or, at least, if I could drop them back down to every few months instead of every few weeks.

Taavi returned, gently wiped off my face with a damp cloth, and then climbed into bed and put his head on my shoulder, his arm over my torso, still painfully thin. Throwing up what little food I ate certainly wasn’t helping.

This wasn’t how you were supposed to live. It wasn’t healthy and it sure as shit wasn’t conducive to being a supportive boyfriend or even a functional person. I didn’t want to keep doing this, and it really wasn’t fair of me to expect Taavi to put up with it, either. Not if I wasn’t going to seriously try to do something about it other than pull a pillow over my own face.

“Taav?”

“Mmm?” I felt the vibrations of his hum against my skin.

“I’m going to try to… see someone after we get back.”

His arm tightened around me. “Thank you.”

“It’s not fair to you.”

“It’s not fair to you, either, Val.”

I didn’t say anything, because I wasn’t sure I didn’t deserve it, at least a little. I’d done it to myself, after all. But I knew he wouldn’t like hearing that.

Taavi’s breath started to even out as he slipped closer to sleep.

“I love you,” I whispered against his hair.

“Te amo, corazón.”

I finally decided to ask. “What’scorazónmean?”

I felt him smile against my damp t-shirt. “Hart,” he answered. I almost protested, because he hadn’t called me that in ages, and then I realized that’s not what he said.Heart. As in,my heart.