"That's just crazy," she said.
"It's not about the kiss this time, it's about what it means. In some lives we can kiss, but in most we can't." He stroked her cheek, and she wrestled with how good it felt. "I must say, I prefer the lives where we can kiss." He looked down. "Though it does make losing you that much harder."
She wanted to be mad at him. For making up such a bizarre story when they should have been locked in an embrace. But something was there, like an itch at the back of her mind, telling her not to run from Daniel now, but to stick around and listen as long as she could.
"When you lose me," she said, feeling out the shape of the word in her mouth. "How does it happen? Why?"
"It depends on you, on how much you can see about our past, on how well you've come to know me, who I am." He tossed his hands up in a shrug. "I know this sounds incredibly—"
"Crazy?"
He smiled. "I was going to say vague. But I'm trying not to hide anything from you. It's just a very, very delicate subject. Sometimes, in the past, just talking like this has…"
She watched for the shape of the words on his lips, but he wouldn't say anything.
"Killed me?"
"I was going to say 'broken my heart'."
He was in obvious pain, and Luce wanted to comfort him. She could feel herself drawn, something in her breast tugging her forward. But she couldn't. That was when she felt certain that Daniel knew about the glowing violet light. That he had everything to do with it.
"What are you?" she asked. "Some kind of—"
"I wander the earth always knowing at the back of my mind that you're coming. I used to look for you. But then, when I started hiding from you—from the heartbreak I knew was inevitable—you started seeking me out. It didn't take long to realize that you came around every seventeen years."
Luce's seventeenth birthday had been in late August, two weeks before she enrolled at Sword & Cross. It had been a sad celebration, just Luce, her parents, and a store-bought cake. There were no candles, just in case. And what about her family? Did they come back every seventeen years, too?
"It's not long enough for me to ever have gotten over the last time," he said. "Just long enough that I would let my guard down again."
"So you knew I was coming?" she asked dubiously. He looked serious, but she still couldn't believe him. She didn't want to.
Daniel shook his head. "Not the day you showed up. It's not like that. Don't you remember my reaction when I saw you?" He looked up, like he was thinking back on it himself. "For the first few seconds every time, I'm always so elated. I forget myself. Then I remember."
"Yes," she said slowly. "You smiled, and then… is that why you flipped me off?"
He frowned.
"But if this happens every seventeen years like you say," she said, "you still knew I was coming. In some sense, you knew."
"It's complicated, Luce."
"I saw you that day, before you saw me. You were laughing with Roland outside Augustine. You were laughing so hard I was jealous. If you know all this, Daniel, if you're so smart that you can predict when I'm going to come, and when I'm going to die, and how hard all of that is going to be for you, how could you laugh like that? I don't believe you," she said, feeling her voice tremble. "I don't believe any of this."
Daniel gently pressed his thumb to her eye to wipe away a tear. "It's such a beautiful question, Luce. I adore you for asking it, and I wish I could explain it better. All I can tell you is this: The only way to survive eternity is to be able to appreciate each moment. That's all I was doing."
"Eternity," Luce repeated. "Yet another thing I wouldn't understand."
"It doesn't matter. I can't laugh like that anymore. As soon as you show up, I'm overtaken."
"You're not making any sense," she said, wanting to leave before it got too dark. But Daniel's story was so much more than nonsensical. The whole time she'd been at Sword & Cross, she'd half believed she was crazy. Her madness paled in comparison to Daniel's.
"There's no manual for how to explain this… thing to the girl you love," he pleaded, brushing her hair with his fingers. "I'm doing the best I can. I want you to believe me, Luce. What do I need to do?"
"Tell a different story," she said bitterly. "Make up a saner excuse."
"You said yourself you felt as if you knew me. I tried to deny it as long as I could because I knew this would happen."
"I felt I knew you from somewhere, sure," she said. Now her voice was clotted with fear. "Like the mall or summer camp or something. Not some former life." She shook her head. "No… I can't."