"YOU—WHAT?" Mailah managed.
"I didn't—that wasn't—" Grayson started, clearly struggling to form words. "I meant—"
"Did you or didn't you just tell me you like me?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them, meeting her gaze with something like resignation. "Yes. I did. And I meant it, though the timing is apparently atrocious."
"The timing," Mailah repeated slowly, "is actually perfect. We're about to spend all night sitting in a darkened entry hall waiting for potential demon attacks. What better time for declarations?"
"We haven't even actually dated more than once," Grayson said, as if this was relevant. "Everything between us has been crisis after crisis, with barely any normal moments in between."
"So what?" Mailah moved from her chair to the arm of his, close enough to touch but not quite making contact. "We've been through more together in the past few months than most couples experience in years."
