What ended up happening to the hoodie? We still have it. I don't think we're ever going to wear it again but there's no way either of us will let the other get rid of it.

  That hoodie is so many things, protection, a declaration of feelings, a reminder of who we once were. If it was possible for a mundane object to become Awakened through importance to a bond I'm sure our hoodie would have done so.

  ~ * ~

  Seb glanced around the living room one last time before turning out the light. Yesterday had been a long day and even though today was shorter it felt nearly the same. So many shocks one after another, so many decisions to be made, and so much information. The remnants of their meal were put up, the kitchen mostly straightened. Breakfast would be easy to prepare, coffee was ready to brew.

  As he turned to head upstairs he paused, his eyes latching on to the hoodie draped across the back of a chair. Was it his? Was it Anya's? At this point he wasn't sure, let alone if it mattered. As he picked it up he found himself lost in thought. He had tossed it at her when she needed clothing, the first conveniently large garment he'd seen at the time. She'd slept in it when they both overwhelmed, choosing it over something of her own. She'd worn it to court, worn his clothes while he told her mother that nothing had happened between them. He hadn't lied, but had he really told the truth? She'd hidden from the world in it until she came down the stairs in that dress.

  Sinking onto the couch he remembered the dress she had surprised him with, the look her face as she stood there waiting for him to notice, waiting for him to say something. The moment of disappointment, of rejection when he kept silent. And all he had said in the end was wow. One word and he had thought it was enough, it had meant everything in that moment. Thinking back there were so many more things he should have said, could have said. So many reasons to tell her. Although he wasn't exactly sure what he would have told her. And then he spent the next two weeks not telling her anything either. Two weeks in the same house, spending every waking moment together, more often than not less than an arm's length apart, or so it felt. Two weeks where he'd been happier than he would have expected, where he looked forward to waking up and saying good morning. Looked forward to coffee, to making plans.

  He'd been the perfect retainer, played the perfect gentleman. Well maybe not quite perfect, he had tickled her when she had pinned him down and teased him about how easy it was. And it wasn't very gentlemanly to make her blush was it? To intentionally say things just to make her react? Just to be able to watch her turn red or glare? To bait a reaction out of her, despite the fact she clearly enjoyed doing the same to him? So he wasn't the perfect gentleman, or even the perfect retainer. Is that who he wanted to be? The Seneschal who wasn't going anywhere? No, he knew that was never what he'd wanted, he played the role because he'd been scared of his reaction, scared of opening up and being hurt. Scared of admitting the truth.

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  He'd avoided that form of commitment, avoided being honest with either of them. And at the same time committed to her in every other way. He even tried to avoid binding himself to her all in the name of not imposing, of giving her the choice. When she had made it clear he was her choice. And then there was the bond. He bet he could point to her right this instant if he tried, a perfect line between the two of them. He even suspected that with an effort he could see her Husk through the building but he was too tired to find out.

  "Seb, you're an idiot," he muttered to himself. "She's given you space even when it clearly wasn't what she wanted, she's been patient. More than patient."

  Why was she so patient. Why did she keep teasing him, keep showing him signs of her interest. Why had it taken him so long to realize what she clearly knew. Why hadn't he simply done what they both clearly wanted.

  She'd asked if he was coming to bed. Right after saying their bond was the type that deserved jewelry, that she knew what she meant to him.

  Getting up he folded the hoodie, adjusting it this way and that until he was happy with how he held it. Gift in hand he made his way over to the stairs, climbing them slowly as his thoughts kept turning over. Would she still be awake? Would she turn him away for being an idiot for so long? Would she-

  He found himself standing in front of her door with no memory of reaching the top. Not giving himself time to reconsider he knocked. He thought he heard a muffled reply and knocked again. "Anya?"

  In the moments she took to come to the door he felt his heart race. He knew he was being foolish, he could feel her confusion mixed with concern and a healthy dose of frustration, clearly she was right that a bond was growing.

  "Seb?" she asked, cracking the door open. "What's wrong? Are you-"

  She paused as her eyes found the hoodie, the door swinging open as she stepped into view. At any other moment he would have teased her about proper attire, about her letting him peek. Any other time he would have turned away, or made sure his eyes were locked on hers. As she set her hand on the hoodie and looked up at him he knew he was blushing, that it was clear he was looking at her as she was.

  "I said wow. All I said was wow," he slowly raised his eyes to meet hers, his voice as uncertain as his thoughts as to whether he was talking about then or now. Once again he saw her, once again he lost his words. "Wow."

  "Seb?"

  "I mean you look amazing. I meant you had my attention from that moment." He had to explain, had to tell her all the things he knew he had never managed when the time should have been right. "When I tickled you I meant I'd gotten to know you. When I agreed to the binding ritual I meant I'd gotten to know us. When you-"

  "I know."

  He blinked, of course she knew, she'd all but told him she knew when she pointed out that his establishing a band through the wall was a bond manifesting. And that bonds were mutual. She knew and she was standing there.

  "Did you risk waking me up just to tell me that?" she asked, daring him to have interrupted her over something that could have waited. "Or was it you wanted to stare at me like I was some sort of-"

  He heard her trail off, her face and neck flushing crimson at whatever she'd almost called herself. Before he could answer she finished, a wicked grin crossing her lips as she did. "wow?"

  "Anya, I-" he paused and swallowed before trying again. "I don't want to have to wait until morning to see you, not today, not ever. I thought I would move into our room."

  Any lingering doubts he had about her reaction vanished as emotions swept over him. His? Hers? No. Theirs. He didn't know if he shut the door or she did, only that he heard it close. Behind them.

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