The cathedral was quiet. Perfect to hide away for a while.
Esperanza and Juan sat tucked into the second pew beneath the stained glass of the storm goddess, her face forever frozen in a scream of wind. Their bodies ached. Muscles newly stretched, joints still adjusting, skin too tight in some places and too soft in others. The change had left behind a phantom ache neither quite knew how to name, a reminder of the bargain struck in the deep water.
Juan rolled one shoulder, trying to work out a stubborn knot. His hands looked broader now, the lines sharper. Esperanza stretched her longer legs until her knees locked, then caught herself mid-kick and let them fall still. She stared at her hands as though they belonged to a stranger, slender fingers now crowned with faint calluses that hadn't been there before.
"So…" she said at last, voice tentative but light. "I guess we're adults now, huh?"
Juan exhaled through his nose and nodded, scratching at the dark stubble shadowing his jaw. "Guess I gotta learn to shave."
She smiled faintly, but the weight behind her eyes hadn't lifted. "You think… you think Papa will ever come back? The real one?"
Juan's smile faltered, his gaze darkening. "I don't know. What we saw… that wasn't him. The corruption's too deep. I just hope Niegal's still in there somewhere, fighting."
Esperanza bit her lip, folding her hands together. "It scares me. That he could be… lost."
He reached out, squeezing her hand gently. "Me too."
That fragile moment broke as she giggled softly, trying to push away the shadows. "Guess I need to learn how to be a lady."
He nudged her shoulder, just enough to shake loose the doubt. "You are a lady, mi Reina."
He looked at her, really looked. The curve of her neck. The storm-silver flash in her eyes. The strength braided through every word. Something old and deep stirred in his belly, raw and instinctive.
It startled him. Froze him.
She noticed, of course. She always did. "What's wrong? Are you in pain?"
He breathed out sharply, shaking his head. "In a manner of speaking."
Her curls tumbled forward as she tilted her head. Her hand settled warm against his chest. "Is there anything I can do?"
Gods, she was kind. Too kind. Juan swallowed hard, gaze sliding away. "I'm just sore, that's all."
Her eyes brightened, healer's instinct in full bloom. "Point to where it hurts. I'll rub it for you."
Laughter burst from him before he could stop it, sudden and loud enough to send a flock of birds scattering from the rafters.
"I don't get it. What's so funny?" she asked, baffled.
Grinning wide, he leaned back. "You… you don't want to know." He caught her hand and kissed her knuckles, making her heart jolt.
She frowned. But then realization hit. "Oh. OH." Her cheeks went crimson as she turned away.
Still chuckling, he brushed her curls from her face. "Don't worry, mi tormenta. I won't do a thing until you're ready."
Her heart pounded, but her voice held steady. "I know."
They leaned in, forehead to forehead, the air between them thrumming with unspoken things.
His nose brushed hers. "I love you, " he whispered.
Their lips met- soft, warm, and holy.
A sudden clatter echoed down the nave. Healers spilled in through the side doors, arms full of linens and tonics.
Esperanza squeaked, but Juan was faster, yanking her close and throwing up a cloaking and silencing ward as easily as breathing. Magic slid through him smoother than ever before, water over stone. Hidden between the pews, her body pressed to his, he felt her quiet giggle against his collarbone.
"That was close," she whispered.
"And this," he murmured, smirking, "is why I said not here."
She swatted his chest, smiling despite herself. She tried to sit, but he pulled her back for one more kiss. Lingering, reverent, full of things unsaid.
"I meant what I said, mi Reina," he breathed.
"I know." Her breath caught. "And I love you too."
When the last healer swept out, Juan dropped the ward. Light and sound returned.
He helped her to her feet, both of them flushing as the outside world reasserted itself. As they stood, she noticed for the first time that his head now bent toward her in a different way, he was taller than before, broader in the shoulders. And when he looked at her, there was no looking down to a child's height, only the steady meeting of equals.
"Should we… walk home?" he asked, rubbing his neck.
Esperanza slipped her fingers through his. Her palm was almost the same size as his now, but her grip felt just as sure. "Yes. Let's."
They stepped into the cooling dusk, the sanctuary doors closing with a sigh behind them. The wind rose at their backs. Not sharp, but soft, urging them forward. Gueyaba chuckled in the hollow of Juan's ribs, and far above, thunder stirred among the clouds.
Their legs still ached, and their hearts still beat too fast. But both were thinking the same thing-
Maybe being grown had its perks after all.