There was never going to be a perfect moment, he knew that better than most. So, instead of waiting for it, Beau decided to steal it.
The house was quiet. Hattie had gone upstairs not long after that final toast—to gluttons for punishment. It was fitting, after all. Beau never claimed that he wasn't. And if Hattie was going to turn him down, well… he was also really bad about giving up the things that he wanted.
He lingered in the kitchen long enough to clean up the dishes, to give himself time to think, to plan. He was going to give up his soul, and while he knew that it wouldn't kill him, he still didn't know what he would do if Hattie rejected him.
Could she reject him? It was her soul he held inside of him. Still, he wasn't overly anxious to figure out if she was the type of girl to cut off her nose to spite her face.
