Page 26 of A Witch’s Guide to Love and Poison

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X ander slept for the rest of the day. She knew the potion was doing its work, but, even so, she couldn’t bring herself to leave his side. Which was why she was there when he woke later that evening. He stirred, blinking slowly.

‘Oh thank goodness,’ she breathed.

‘G’morning,’ he said sluggishly.

‘It’s evening,’ she told him.

‘Ah, no wonder it’s so dark.’ He tried sitting up, then groaned.

‘Do you remember what happened?’ she asked, lifting the pillow for him to lean against. As he got comfortable, he thought about it—then his eyes widened.

‘Oh god, yes,’ he said. His gaze trained on her. ‘Bis, are you alright? You didn’t get hurt, did you?’ He scanned her face, her hands, searching for signs of injury, and a lump formed in her throat.

‘I’m fine, nothing happened to me,’ she managed to say.

He released a breath. ‘Good.’ He seemed perfectly alright, then, while she was still left feeling frayed, even more uneven than when he had been asleep. Wasn’t he angry with her? It was her fault, after all.

But he seemed preoccupied, taking in his surroundings. He realized he was in her room, slowly perusing every inch to his satisfaction before turning back to Bisma with a small smile.

‘Of course it takes me being terribly injured for you to finally bring me to your home,’ he said.

Bisma surprised them both by promptly bursting into tears. She hardly saw the shock on his face before she covered her own with her hands.

‘Bis, I’m sorry!’ he said. ‘I was only joking.’ His hands came over hers, gently prying them away from her face. ‘Look, I’m fine! I promise. I’m alright.’

He was alright, but, even so, she sniffled, taking her hands out of his to wipe at her cheeks.

‘I’ll be back,’ she squeaked, and before he could protest, she ran down the stairs. She went to the kitchen, stopping at the basin to run cold water over her hands.

With a deep breath, she looked about to find him something to eat. He must be hungry, and his body would need fortification.

There wasn’t much food, but there were shaami kebabs, the tender patties made of beef and yellow split peas with onions and spices. She fried him a few, then made a pot of chai with extra cardamom. Busying herself with cooking relaxed her a little, until she began to think of all that had transpired between her and Xander these past few days.

Her heart hurt to think of him, in ways that were both good and bad.

She wished Luna was here so she might ask her advice; maybe all those poetry books she read would give her some insight. Or even Azalea, who would roll her eyes and make a snarky remark, or the little ones, who would giggle—any of them, really, she would talk to any of them. She missed them all with a pain that felt heavy.

Worse than that, she felt guilty. Xander had been hurt because of her. What if he wanted nothing to do with her after today? She didn’t want to lose him, but didn’t that make her selfish?

He was so good and kind and optimistic and bright, and she was so dark and twisted and messed up—how could someone like him ever love someone like her? The town’s golden boy with the most unwanted of Unwanted Girls.

It was almost comical.

When she returned upstairs with the tray of food, Xander was looking around her room again from his position on her bed. Bisma found she didn’t mind at all. She wanted him to see.

Setting the tray across his lap, she inspected the skin of his face, neck, and throat, glad to see that the gel she had applied was being absorbed into his skin, gradually returning it to its previously smooth and unscathed state.

‘You didn’t have to bring me food,’ he said, his voice quiet as he regarded her.

She didn’t say anything, but perched on the bed beside his legs.

She wanted to take care of him, and it was the least she could do after all he had done for her. Nibbling on her lower lip, she poured him a cup of tea, adding a spoon and a half of sugar, then offered it to him. She knew how he liked his tea, as well.

‘Mmm, thank you,’ he said, taking a sip.

She was quiet and he noticed. It was like he could read her energy and see there was something upsetting her.

‘What is it?’ he asked.

‘Nothing.’

He gave her a look. ‘Bisma.’

She looked at him closely. ‘Well … you aren’t … angry?’ she asked. ‘It’s my fault you got hurt.’

‘Oh, that.’ He waved a hand, taking a sip of tea. ‘Is that why you’re brooding? You should have said sooner. I would have told you how preposterous the notion is. And anyway, you’re the one who brought me into your home, healed me, and are now feeding me, so really I am in your debt.’

‘Oh.’ Apparently, she no longer had a grasp on language and could say nothing clever beyond oh . He was just so sweet, it made her want to cry. She needed to stop feeling the urge to cry every time he was nice to her; it really was not a sustainable way to live with the way he carried on!

‘Then that’s settled?’ he asked.

She nodded.

‘Good. Now eat with me, I’m sure you haven’t eaten all day, and this is too much food for me.’

So she ate with him, until she saw that he looked tired again. She took the tray back downstairs, then rummaged around the kitchen for a pain relief potion she had on hand for any of the girls who might need it. She found it at the back of a cabinet and brought it up.

‘For the pain,’ she said, handing it to him. ‘You ought to rest some more.’

‘Thank you,’ he said, tipping the liquid into his mouth.

She helped him get comfortable, and soon after realized why this particular potion was hidden so far back: it made one temporarily lose their senses.

Which was why Xander looked up at her with a foolish expression on his face, blinking slowly.

He reached for her hand, pulling her closer.

‘Darling Bisma,’ he said, hand in her hair. ‘I wish you didn’t hate me, not when I adore you so.’

‘Shh,’ she said, heart hammering. ‘You don’t know what you’re saying.’

‘You’re right,’ he said, his voice sleepy. His eyes were closing. ‘I don’t simply adore you, I—’

But he fell asleep before the end of the sentence, and Bisma could not tell if she was relieved or disappointed.