Who needs a post title? I have a magician.

When you reach the part where the heartaches come
The hero would be me
Heroes often fail
And you won't read that book again
Because the ending's just too hard to take

I walk away like a movie star
Who gets burned in a three way script
Enter number two, a movie queen
To play the scene of bringing all the good things out in me
But for now love lets be real

Two years in a row, two birthdays running, I point out to him gently in the early morning light as he struggles to wake up. Lochlan is out like a light, zonked on my other side but Caleb is half-alert, tense as he fights his dreams on the way back to the surface.

Happy Birthday, Neamhchiontach. Thank you for letting me be here for the first early hours of it. 

I nod, as if we get along, as the only time he's the absolute best is under strict supervision. As if it wasn't a little bit overwhelming last night though they didn't need to fight over me at all. As if he has ownership now. I need to make sure he's aware that he doesn't, even as I gleefully followed every instruction he gave me not to doubt him as he pinned me to the dark last night and kept me there for hours while Lochlan burned us alive and then when Caleb finally handed me back he blew out all of the flames on us until the dark roared back with a vengeance and I. need. sleep.

It may not be every year-

I'd prefer not to think about that right now and just enjoy this. He puts his arm out, pulling me back down. I can still smell a hint of his Tom Ford cologne and soap even and I close my eyes for another minute.When I wake up again he's gone and Lochan is awake.

Come here, my birthday girl. His toothy grin, wild hair and sleepy eyes make me burst out laughing.

You look crazy. 

I am. For you. He lights his fingers and puts them out against my lips, meeting my eyes steadily. Getting telepathic confirmation that even though the Devil was here and gone in the night he left my heart, left my soul intact and Lochlan doesn't have to fear a kidnapping or a defection. And confirmation that even though my ghosts shroud me in protection, in the past, the earliest memory of love still shines in the sunlight.

What would you like for your birthday? He says suddenly, a question I don't think he's ever asked me before but somehow I have the answer ready. Easily.

You. 

He doesn't break his gaze, even as his eyes fill up and spill over.