Alex leans into him, her lips pressing against his shoulder through the cotton of his shirt, the contact loosening something tightly-wound inside his chest. It still felt as though his heart was as empty, as bereft, as the newly-vacant rooms of Black Elm; untethered from everything familiar, aside from the walls and the floors, the ruined fountain he can just see jutting up from the center of the hedge maze and the tangled branches of the trees scattered through the grounds. But Alex was right, in her way. It could be his now, entirely.
It could be theirs.
"Ours," he says, his echo of it sounding like a decision they both needed to hear. "We'll keep your place at the Bramford, but...Black Elm could be ours." Darlington smiles at her, soft and faint, then turns his attention back to the huge, empty room. "So, this is the great room, Stern," he says, gesturing at it with his free hand. "Usually formal, largely for entertaining. When the Layabouts came to visit, this is where the night would end, most of the time."
He breathes out, shaking off the brief lapse into a memory he doesn't want to recall. "It's also the room that served as the staging area for every single freshman admissions file last summer, when I still assumed I had a choice in my Dante."
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It could be theirs.
"Ours," he says, his echo of it sounding like a decision they both needed to hear. "We'll keep your place at the Bramford, but...Black Elm could be ours." Darlington smiles at her, soft and faint, then turns his attention back to the huge, empty room. "So, this is the great room, Stern," he says, gesturing at it with his free hand. "Usually formal, largely for entertaining. When the Layabouts came to visit, this is where the night would end, most of the time."
He breathes out, shaking off the brief lapse into a memory he doesn't want to recall. "It's also the room that served as the staging area for every single freshman admissions file last summer, when I still assumed I had a choice in my Dante."