Sindri set her curling brush on the bathroom counter and scrutinized her appearance. Her golden trusses fell in loose, fat curls around her shoulders, accentuating her little black dress that flared at the waist and stopped at the lower thigh. Cliché as it was, a woman could never go wrong with a classic. Even now, her chest was a little too flat, but her flawless complexion and ice blue eyes made up for her lack of curves.

Though Thayer had made a quick exit without an explanation, Paloma had helped, going through Sindri's closet and makeup while offering suggestions for the night's date.

"Not a purse; use a clutch! It's classier." Or something along the lines of, "Do you want him to think you're a nun? Shorter!" Best of all was, "Now you look like a hooker. Don't you have something in between?"

Why was being a woman so hard?

But the true conundrum was the mark Sindri had erased. Fairies could heal themselves, but they didn't go out of their way to inflict new (or in her case) old damage. If Storm had waited a week, Sindri could have more easily explained the absence, but this was literally two days after her incident.

Paloma walked in and glanced at Sindri through the mirror. Her lips quirked at the side as she pinched her chin between two fingers. "I don't suppose you have a strapless push-up bra?"

Sindri laughed and spun around before hoisting herself onto the counter. "Didn't you tell me two dresses ago I look like a prostitute? Now you want me to emphasize something I don't have? Make up your mind!"

If only fairy magic could give her a boob job. That would be a cool skill, and she'd be rich for enhancing body parts without all the invasive plastic surgery.

"Is this your way of saying you don't own sexy underwear?" Paloma asked, completely unashamed as she joined Sindri on the counter. She swung her legs, bouncing her feet against the wooden cabinet below.

Sindri shrugged and propped her hands on the surface on each side of her, leaning back. "I haven't needed one before. I'm more accustomed to pushing people away than chasing after them."

A hand clinging to hers brought Sindri's attention to Paloma, who watched her with round, soulful eyes. Her playful mood that normally sparkled in her pouty smirk and deep gaze had disappeared, replaced with a seriousness rarely present in the younger fae. "Em, why are you like this? You've avoided romantic entanglements longer than I've known you. Don't you want to fall in love?"

Love. So many meanings and ways to express such a complex emotion. And until now, Sindri had experienced all but the euphoria everyone sought like the Holy Grail.

Tears pricked the corners of her eyes, but she forced herself to keep a calm demeanor. The truth was too shameful to admit, no matter how much time had passed. "I mean, there's the curse," she hedged, which was true enough. Loki had said she wouldn't find love for a while. "I've wandered this planet for over a thousand years, and I've never met someone I could share that side of myself with." Also not a lie.

"But why didn't you try sooner?"

If there was one thing Sindri hated about Geminis, it was their insatiable curiosity and incessant nosiness. Astrology didn't affect only humans, but fairies were clever and immortal; a human could die, but a fae would remember forever and eventually obtain the answers when intrigued enough.

"It doesn't do any good to dwell on the past," Sindri replied, quoting words Elvinia had spoken more than once. Shoving herself off the counter, Sindri smiled brightly and changed the subject. "Did you find something for the cut I'm supposed to have?"

Paloma sighed, but nodded and followed suit, leaving the bathroom and returning shortly with a small medical pack. Opening it, she took out a spool of surgical thread. On instinct, Sindri backed away, recalling her brush with the Canadian scientists after a previous lover had discovered her secret and alerted the authorities. "Are the sutures necessary? I thought you'd work your magic with makeup or something."

"Gotta sell the act," Paloma stated casually as if she weren't about to stitch up Sindri's face. "It's not like I'm recreating the cut with a scalpel, and it's not my fault you healed yourself before setting up that date."

"I wasn't expecting him to be free today!" That knife was too close, and a light bulb above the mirror shattered as Sindri retreated, bumping into the towel rack. "Can't I pretend I never had the stitches? Humans are easy to misdirect if you make them think they remembered incorrectly."

Paloma set the tools on the counter and raised her hands to show she was unarmed. Then she pursed her lips and shifted her gaze downward and to the left, silent for several moments. Finally, she said, "Makeup could definitely sell the cut if Storm doesn't look too closely, but a few stitches would invite less scrutiny. We can remove them once you get home, and you can plan to see him in another week or so once an acceptable amount of time has passed."

Recomposing herself, Sindri closed the gap between her and her best friend, encircling Paloma's wrist in a gentle grip. "I really don't like surgical tools."

"What would you have me do?" the other woman asked, moving out of Sindri's grasp and throwing her arms in the air. "It's only a few hours."

Yes, but Sindri could easily find trouble in span of time. Fae and troublemaking often went hand in hand.

Sitting on the counter again, she held her breath and closed her eyes, imagining her magical essence in soothing shades of blue and silver, forming a tingling barrier over her skin. "Okay," she said through gritted teeth, keeping her eyes squeezed shut, "Try to be quick so I don't have to think about it."

Sindri tensed as the needle punctured the skin, but after only five seconds of discomfort, the pinching stopped, and Paloma stepped away. Blinking, Sindri touched the new stitches and studied them in the mirror. They looked exactly as they would have if she'd kept them in, and somehow, makeup had been applied in those few moments to give the appearance of swelling and scabbing. "Huh. Impressive."

"Always the tone of surprise," Paloma tutted. "Seriously, I think Thayer was on to something when he said you needed to come home more often. You rely way too much on mundane methods."

This age-old argument was beginning to grate on Sindri's nerves. Her friends meant well, but they'd never understand she simply didn't belong in their world, no matter how much they tried to integrate her. What was the old saying: You could take a girl out of the city, but not the city from a girl? In this case, it was a small sliver of humanity she'd clung to, praying for a day where she didn't live with one foot in each world.

Inhale. Exhale. Repeat. Picture that little blue barrier that reminds you of the ice caves back home, glittering in the cold winter sunlight.

Tension eased inside her chest as the heat blazing through her cheeks lessened. Her situation wasn't Paloma or Thayer's fault; they tried their best to be supportive, and Sindri needed to accept it as much as she wanted them to do the same for her.

Reaching for her jewelry rack standing near the wall corner, Sindri chose a simple silver necklace with a clear, glass-blown horse she'd created centuries ago — her tribute to Rín. The charm had been crafted to depict the mare running free with the wind in her mane — the freedom in which all living beings deserved, and the exceptionally long, good life that had been afforded to her first true companion. The pendant glowed with frozen pixie dust as she traced the smooth contours and carefully clasped the chain around her neck.

Satisfied with their work, Sindri twirled before striking a pose with her foot out and hand on her opposite hip. "What do you think?"

"I think you're gonna knock his socks off and then some," Paloma said, guiding Sindri toward the adjoining bedroom and handing over the little black clutch, all while wearing a naughty grin and mischievous twinkle in her gaze.

That was such a cringy thing to say, but Sindri returned the grin before the pair wished each other goodbye, and Paloma disappeared through the closet with a generous handful of pixie dust and disembodied demand for a play-by-play later.

Soon after, the doorbell rang, and Sindri drew a deep, meditative breath before running to the door. As she tugged on the handle, she realized no sane woman would give some rando her address, even if he was a professional athlete. What had she been thinking?

There was no time to ponder the question though because Storm stood at the threshold, holding a bouquet of pink premium roses with magenta rims. A well-tailored gray suit hugged his massive shoulders, and he actually wore a tie in a proper double Windsor.

Class, good looks, and famous... did he have a rainbow with a stash of gold hidden somewhere too? Loki couldn't have been that generous — there had to be a catch.

Color darkened Storm's cheeks in the outdoor lighting as his gaze landed on her, lingering on her face while his mouth curved into a wide smile. Presenting the roses, he spoke in a soft tone that belied his large frame. "Hi."

He winced as if reconsidering his one word greeting, forcing Sindri to bite her lip to repress a giggle. Earlier, she'd been so nervous, and now they were alone together, he appeared equally apprehensive.

Heavy perfume emanated from the bouquet, and whisper-soft petals brushed her skin as she accepted the flowers and smiled above the bulbs. "These are lovely, thank you."

She probably should have said hello first, but she hadn't been on a proper courting ritual in years. She had no idea how this decade worked in terms of dating. From what she could discern, most people communicated via text and internet. Who needed face-to face interaction when a person had a phone in hand?

Storm tugged on the collar of his crisp blue dress-shirt and cleared his throat, barely making eye contact as his cheeks continued to darken. "You look wonderful."

If this was an act, it was very good because Sindri couldn't imagine someone with his easy charm struggling to socialize with women. When she'd watched him on the ice, he'd radiated confidence like a homing beacon, drawing everyone into his orbital sphere.

"Thank you." With the flowers still in hand and swaying awkwardly in place at an unspoken impasse, Sindri decided to break the ice first. "If you'll give me a moment to place these in water, I'll be ready." She took a step toward the kitchen before turning and beckoning him inside, hoping she wasn't inviting some weirdo into her home. However, it seemed rude to leave him standing outside or assume he was ready to leave.

Of course, that also meant she had to find a vase manually, but it would also look strange if she magically staged the flowers or even ungrateful if she seemed disinterested. Ugh, why was dating so hard? Sindri was a thousand years old. She should have knowledge about this stuff.

Once she found a white ceramic vase with gold vines accenting the base — a relic she'd kept from the Victorian era — Sindri filled it and set the roses in the water, distributing the flowers and leaves around the neck. Then she glanced at Storm, who stood within the threshold and kept his hands in his pockets.

Buttons darted into the room from the hallway and stopped at Storm's shins, cautiously sniffing his legs before sitting and watching him with round green eyes.

Kneeling, Storm offered the back of his hand, allowing the cat to come to him. Buttons leaned forward, unwilling to leave her seat just yet, tilting her head. Then she head-butted him, cuing her signal for ear scratches, to which the gentle giant obliged. And though Sindri doubted Storm noticed, the feline closed her eyes with a very smug grin.

Always a good sign, especially for an animal who disliked Thayer with impressive passion.

Running his fingers over Buttons' fluffy coat, he cooed, "Oh, you are beautiful!"

Yep, definitely a keeper, providing Sindri could make it through the night without embarrassing herself.

"You have a nice place," he said a moment later as he rose gracefully to his feet. No popping joints or using his thighs to push himself up. Sports hadn't seemed to take their toll on him yet like it did to so many people before their time. Looking around, he added, "How do you keep all the cat hair off your furniture? My aunt has a Norwegian Forest cat, and he sheds all over the place."

"Magic, I guess." Sindri spoke automatically and almost winced until Storm laughed.

"It must be, because my aunt has tried everything. She needs your secret."

Huh. Sindri could work with that. She shrugged as she checked the food dish and crossed the room to retrieve her coat draped over the back of the couch. Shrugging into it and sweeping her hair over the collar, she then smoothed the lapels and said, "Buttons is a lot of maintenance, but I don't have any problems with her beyond waking up to find her on my chest."

When Storm smiled, the entire room brightened. Whatever sunshine he stole, Sindri wanted it. Smoothing his suit jacket, Storm indicated the door with a slight shift of the eyebrows and his chin jutting toward the outside.

Heart dancing the salsa and everything in between, Sindri finished buttoning her coat and clasped the matching belt around her waist. Then she followed Storm outside, turning at the last minute and clicking her fingers for the heck of it. Might as well start the evening with a bit of magic — she wouldn't have it later if all went well.

Locking the door behind her, Sindri stepped onto the sidewalk, on top of the world for the first time in centuries.

WC: 2341
Overall WC: 17240

There is new character art added to the aesthetics chapter. Go see what   had in mind for our roguish scoundrel, Thayer. 🤣