The Stars Over Bittergate Bay

Chapter 24

24

I t had been a long time since Sidney had rehearsed an apology, but that was exactly what he did as he walked upstairs. ‘I’m sorry for prying.’ ‘I’m sorry for dredging up unhappy memories.’ ‘I’m sorry, but I’ll likely do it again.’ That was the most honest of them, and it might not have actually counted as an apology at all. Sidney sighed.

Leo was the only person Sidney had ever really made a habit of apologizing to. His mother never required one, and he’d given up on his father very young, and frankly, Sidney didn’t really have many friends to wrong, so apologies weren’t something he was well-practiced in. And he knew his own faults. He would do everything he could not to delve into Jonas’s private business again, even if he did want to know it very badly.

The door to the bedroom wasn’t shut like Sidney had thought from downstairs; it was cracked. When Sidney stuck his head inside, he didn’t see anyone. He stepped in and glanced around. Everything was still a mess, the bedclothes and their clothes scattered around the mattress and the floor. Sidney could feel the heat on the back of his neck, not embarrassment. Not in the least. His desire was almost foreign to him; he didn’t recognize the strength of it. The way he wanted Jonas again, already.

It wasn’t just that though. When Delilah had accused him of using Jonas, something deep inside Sidney had balked, and he’d been too upset to realize it then, but now, in the empty room, when he could see the minor destruction they’d wrought together, Sidney knew the part that he had enjoyed the most was when Jonas woke up beside him. When they’d talked and shared a mug of coffee. It had been the easiest conversation that Sidney’d had in a long time. Maybe his entire life. And he wasn’t so foolish that he didn’t recognize that that meant something. Something he wanted to explore more than the stars. Which was a very strange realization indeed.

He jumped when a light in the corner flickered brightly. Sidney whipped around to see that there was a door ajar in the corner. A door he’d thought was a closet. But through the crack he could see a window, and the flickering light along with it.

Sidney had never met a minor mystery that he wasn’t inclined to solve, and he was still looking for Jonas, so he went over and nudged the door open. The cool air from the new room he’d revealed mixed with the warmer, dampish air from the bedroom and drew goosepimples on his ankles. Paper and notebooks cluttered every available surface. Every shelf was packed to its edges with further ephemera balanced precariously atop yellowing pages and cracking spines. And in the center of it all, sat Jonas.

The space on the large desk in front of him was clear of documents. Instead it was cluttered with hand tools, and Jonas was peering through a large, lit magnifying glass at a stand which held a deconstructed pocket watch. A bruise in the shape of Sidney’s mouth was visible below the open collar of Jonas’s shirt. Sidney’s heart fluttered strangely in his chest, and the next thing he knew he was smiling. Why was he smiling? Penitent people, people who needed to apologize, ought not be skulking and smiling. Luckily Jonas hadn’t looked up yet, so Sidney had time to get his rogue facial features in order.

“Jonas,” Sidney said. Jonas glanced up, his tools stilling. For one moment his amber iris was magnified by the lamp in front of him before he lifted his head. His mouth hung open, a bit like he was trying to come up with something to say, and Sidney smiled again, even though he’d told himself not to, goddammit. “Sorry for— Sorry for interrupting, I just?—”

“No, it’s my fault.” Jonas set the tools down with a nervous clatter. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“What are you working on?”

“It’s uh… It’s your pocket watch.” Sidney stiffened in surprise, and Jonas began to apologize. “Sorry. I should have asked. I only thought—It was so waterlogged, but I thought if I could take it apart and dry the components?—”

“Can you put it back together?” Sidney asked, stepping up to the other side of the desk. There was a chair there, stacked with papers, a large book open on top. Sidney carefully picked up the pile and moved it to the corner of the desk, as Jonas looked down at the watch parts.

“I can definitely put it back together.”

“Then it’s no problem.” Sidney sat, curling his legs up beneath him, and leaned on the edge of the desk, looking at all the parts of his pocket watch. He could feel Jonas staring at him. Finally, he looked up at Jonas’s furrowed brow. “It’s fine. I didn’t even think of it, honestly. And it’s not like you can break it any worse than me dunking it in the water.”

“I think it’ll still work.” Jonas’s attention dropped back to the gears on the towel in front of him. He picked up a set of tweezers. “It’s well-made.”

“It was a gift,” Sidney said, as though he needed an excuse to have something nice. Jonas nodded, his expression hidden by his bowed head as he went back to work.

“I saw the inscription. Who’s Annie?”

“My mom’s wife.”

“Ah.” Jonas said, as though this was a statement that required no further questions. A lesson in good manners and not prying. Sidney sat back in his chair and looked around. On top of the pile that he’d moved to the desk was a liturgical looking book, a leather bookmark resting in the open valley of its cracked spine. The text was all in ecclesiastical Latin, which Sidney was not fluent in, though he could identify astronomical terms on sight. Here, there were none.

Sidney turned his attention to the bookshelves, where a cursory skimming of titles was enough to inform Sidney that whatever cataloging system Jonas had devised was one that Sidney would need instruction to understand. Perhaps bizarrely, he was thrilled and charmed by this. An unparsable cataloging system was an appealing addition to all the other things he already found appealing about Jonas. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a way to say that aloud that didn’t make him sound deranged. And anyway, he was supposed to be apologizing.

“I, uh,” Sidney cleared his throat. “I’m sorry about earlier.”

“No, it’s fine,” Jonas said too quickly, gesturing dismissively with a thin pair of tweezers.

“I shouldn’t have pried. I—I always ask too many questions.”

“I’m quite used to your questions by now, Quince.” Sidney could hear the smile in Jonas’s voice when he said it, and Sidney tried not to be pleased about that.

“Still, I apologize.”

“There’s really no need.”

“It’s none of my business,” Sidney said. Jonas glanced up at him then, one eyebrow arched. Sidney abruptly remembered what Delilah had said to him downstairs. About people using Jonas. Only wanting Jonas for what he could do. That wasn’t Sidney’s intention. He cleared his throat again. “I only want to know what you’re comfortable telling me. Or what you want to tell me. And if that’s nothing, that’s fine.”

“Is it?” Jonas bent back down over the watch, but Sidney could see the flush high on his cheekbones. Was that good or bad? Fuck.

“I just mean, I want to know everything about you. But I’ll take what I can get.” No. That didn’t sound right either. Shit, he was bad at this. Jonas stopped what he was doing and looked up at Sidney.

“Unfortunately, I’m a bit out of practice when it comes to talking about myself.”

“That’s alright. Apparently, I’m out of practice at talking in general.” Jonas snorted.

“I think it’s nice.”

“You’re being incredibly generous with me.”

“It’s been quite some time since anyone’s shown an interest in my life. Any aspect of it. I don’t mind it.” Jonas looked incredibly sincere, a small smile on his closed lips. Sidney wanted to crawl over the desk and kiss him. Instead, he put his foot in his mouth.

“I don’t have any ulterior motives,” he said, like an idiot. Jonas’s eyebrows lifted sharply. Fuck, shit and damn. “I mean— Delilah said?—”

“Oh, Gods.” Jonas shook his head, chuckling. “What did I tell you about listening to her?”

“The thing is, I sort of believe her,” Sidney said. Jonas didn’t laugh at that, and Sidney could feel his face getting red. “I like you, Jonas. I feel myself around you and here, and I just… I really like it. And I like you.” Jonas blinked at him. Sidney got to his feet. “I’m sorry. I’m so bad at this. Forget I said anything. I—” he broke off and forced himself to turn. Leave, Sidney. For the love of God, get out of this room. He was almost to the doorway before he remembered that Ellery had come by. Fuck. Sidney groaned and turned back.

“Ellery Van Ahlberg came by with your invitation to the Ascension party. I left it downstairs on the entry table for you.”

“I don’t want it.” Jonas was standing behind his desk. Odd. Why had he gotten up?

“She said you’d say as much. Delilah asked her for one for me, which. I mean, if you’re not going—Not that I—” Sidney clamped his jaw closed. No more talking. At least not in front of Jonas Rookwood. He shook his head to indicate this. A crooked smile flitted across Jonas’s beautiful mouth. He picked up Sidney’s watch off the desk, and closed it with two firm clicks, then he held it out toward Sidney.

“It needs to be wound. But it should work.”

Sidney walked slowly back across the floor of the study, trying to ignore that his heart was beating rather quickly in his chest. When he took his watch out of Jonas’s palm, he couldn’t help but feel the warmth of Jonas’s hand against his fingertips. And he couldn’t help but notice the way Jonas’s palm twitched, like he wanted to close it around Sidney’s.

“Thank you,” Sidney said. Jonas nodded.

“Of course. My fault it got damaged in the first place.”

“I don’t mind,” Sidney said. Jonas grinned and shook his head.

“That’s an insane thing to say.”

“Yes,” Sidney agreed. “It is true though.” Weird, Sidney. Could he not be normal for sixty seconds in front of this man? Sidney swallowed and slid his watch into his pocket before turning to go. He had one foot over the threshold when Jonas spoke.

“Sidney?” Sidney bit his lip and turned.

“Yes?”

“I like you too.”

“Oh,” Sidney said. It was probably more like a gasp, which was embarrassing. But Jonas was smiling, and then Sidney was smiling too.

“The rain’s letting up. Do you want to go to the diner for supper?”

“Sure,” Sidney said, even as he heard the rain pounding down against the eaves. “I’d love to.”