Chapter 38

Thirty-Eight

Lazarus helped me redress, wincing lightly as his fingers fumbled with the buttons on my long sleeve flannel shirt. I stared up at him, concerned by his pain. "Hey," I gently placed my hand along his cheek, his chestnut eyes raising to mine, "are you feeling okay?"

His face softened, a sweet smile greeting me as he spoke. "I'm good, darling. Though it's probably not the smartest idea to be so active with fresh stitches." He glanced at his stitches, his fingertips grazing the hand-sewn loops in his skin before looking back at me. "But this," he lowered my hand, holding it in his, "was absolutely worth it."

Lazarus gazed deeply into my eyes, a warmth rising in my chest, my heart tapping with bliss. "Here." He raised his hands, unlatching his necklace. "I want you to have this." He leaned forward, clasping the cool chain around my neck. My fingers grazed the metal, excited by the unexpected act.

"What's this for?" I asked, glowing with a smile.

Lazarus grabbed my hand, giddy like a schoolboy. "You're mine, dreamer, and I want everyone to know. Besides, it looks better on you than me." He winked. I couldn't help myself, beaming with happiness as he sat there with pride. Lazarus lowered his head, grinning as he ran his fingers along the inside of my palm. "Hey," he raised my hand, inspecting it closely, "what happened to your cut?"

Unsure of what he was referring to, I peeked at my open palm. "Oh. Well, something weird about me, is that my wounds always seem to heal pretty quick."

"Pretty quick? That was a nasty cut, Alaska." He ran his finger along my skin. "It's only been a few days. How are you able to heal so fast?"

I stopped for a moment, thinking. "I-I guess it has to do with my magic?" As Lazarus sat in awe of my ability, an idea struck my mind. "This might seem crazy but hear me out." He lowered my hand, listening intently. "What if my blood could heal you too?"

"Not sure I understand the logic here, babe." He laughed, slightly uncomfortable. "I don't have magic or your blood—"

Before he could finish his sentence, I unlatched a large safety pin from my jean shorts and ran the needle point across my palm, pushing hard. The pain was oddly comforting.

"Alaska!" He tried to stop me, but I brushed his hands back. "What the hell are you doing?"

Exhaling, I stopped, staring at my bloody palm. Lazarus' mouth remained open, gawking at what I had just done. "There. Now you do."

Lazarus blinked, shocked by my action. "Alaska," he sighed, "you shouldn't have done that." His fingers curled around my hand, delicately trying to figure out what to do to help. "I am not worth your pain." His words were like mere whispers in the night.

My eyes watered, staring up at his wounded expression. "Lazarus." He reluctantly looked at me. "You are worth everything." I pushed my palm towards his bare chest. "Let me help you. Please." It was as if I was begging him, desperately wanting my theory to be correct. I wanted him to heal. I needed him to heal.

Lazarus dropped his fingers, nodding. He quietly leaned back, laying across the blankets as I remained on my knees next to him, cupping my bleeding hand. I leaned forward, preparing to pour my blood onto his wound, when he grabbed my wrist, stopping me. I gasped, glancing over to his face as he spoke. "Try not to be too rough," he winked, smiling.

"Thought you liked it like that," I wheezed, slightly nervous. Lazarus released a soft laugh, obviously just as anxious as I was. "Don't worry, I'll be gentle this time."

He inhaled deeply, trying to calm his breathing as I held my closed palm over his stitches. I slightly opened my hand, allowing my warm blood to pour across his skin. Lazarus flinched, startled by the odd feeling. "You okay?" I whispered. He nodded.

I continued to let my blood drip from my open wound onto his, watching as it seeped into the stitches and soaked into his pores. Please work. Please. I flipped my hand over, gently rubbing my red stained skin along his, ensuring every inch of his injury was covered. Please, mother of magic, bless my blood. Let my magic flow through his veins and heal him. Please. I lowered my hand, resting it on his abs as he stared up at me, his irises twinkling.

"Alaska." He ran his hand along my cheek, tucking my damp hair behind my ear. "It's okay if it doesn't work." My emotions became overwhelming, bubbling beneath the surface as a single tear fell into his hand. He sat up, both his hands now holding my face. "Hey, why the tears? I'm not dying."

I chuckled, spitting my tears, wiping them away with my clean hand. "I just want you to be okay. I want us to be able to leave this town. Together."

Lazarus ran his thumb along my cheek, wiping my sadness away. "Darling, there isn't a force on this earth that can keep me from you. I would walk through fire for you." He kissed my forehead. "I am yours and you are mine, until the end of time."

"Until we're ghosts," I teased him. He laughed, nodding.

"Until we're ghosts. I love you, Alaska."

I tilted my head, smiling. "I love you, Lazarus." Our lips met, exchanging a passionate, fiery kiss. Please, let this work.