Born Of Nothing

20

10 Not quite a week after my first solo visit to see Fen, I found myself back in my brick-red 1995 Fiat on the road to Strabane. The trip was unplanned and far more spontaneous than normal for me. When I’d woken up that Friday morning, I discovered that my mom had already left the house for the day. Usually she was there in the mornings making breakfast and flitting about the kitchen. The moment I realized she was gone, without hesitation I sent a text to Fergus explaining that I wasn’t feeling well. Twenty minutes later I was on the road. Had I not spent every waking moment of the week thinking about Fen, I might not have been so brash. However, the moment the opportunity arose for me to see the object of my dawning obsession, I jumped at the chance. Even my cautious side, the demure school girl who preferred rules and order, couldn’t seem to construct a sufficient argument against going. Every part of me was anxious to see Fen. Assuming my mom didn’t find out I’d skipped work, the day would work out perfectly. This time when Fen opened the door, his eyes brightened with amusement, softening his impassive features. “Cat, I was not expecting any visitors for at least another day. Is that not what you said at our last visit?” He held the door open, and I helped myself inside, hoping I could keep my fluttering heartrate from turning my cheeks bright pink. “Yes, I didn’t think I would be able to get away until tomorrow. Lucky for us, there was a change of plans, and I was able to sneak away sooner.” Lucky for us? Did I just make it sound like we were a couple on a secret rendezvous? Oh, hell. And there goes the pink cheeks. I probably look like I’m twelve. “So, how have you been?” I squeaked out awkwardly. His lips tipped up with the hint of a smirk as he joined me in our usual chairs at the small dinette. “I’m well, and yourself?” “I’m good. What have you been up to this week?” I asked, trying to redirect the attention from myself. “I read the book you left with me; it was … entertaining.” “Really?” I exclaimed in surprise. “I didn’t expect you to have it read already, otherwise I would have brought you a new one. Next time I’ll bring more, if you’d like.” He tilted his head in acknowledgement but said nothing. His formal speech and aloof manner was something that would have been off-putting from anyone else. Knowing his behaviors were the result of a centuries old upbringing followed by solitary exile helped me understand that his mannerisms were a testament to his background rather than his opinions. After only a couple of visits, I expected his formal nature as a part of his personality. “After the time we spent last week going over how to use the phone, I thought maybe I’d hear from you. Did you try to call or text at all?” I hadn’t been optimistic about his adoption of the phone for communication, but a part of me had hoped. “I told you I had no interest in these twenty-first century devices. I have been thrown into this modern world like a dog thrown into the ocean and told to grow gills. I can only change so much. Once I go off on my own, it will be to live a simple life. I will not have need of such devices,” he grumbled somewhat petulantly. “I can understand that. My aunt has a large piece of land on the western coast. I love it out there. She’s got horses and there’s no other houses or people, certainly no internet or television. It may seem boring to some, but I always feel so at peace out in the heather listening to the ocean nearby. My aunt’s a drunken sod, but the scenery is amazing.” I had fiddled with my sleeve as I spoke, smiling to myself at the comment about my aunt. When Fen didn’t reply, I raised my eyes to find his watching me raptly. I couldn’t fathom what he was thinking, and his attention made me agonizingly self-conscious. “Oh! I nearly forgot. I brought my shears if you’d still like a haircut,” I offered, glad for a reason to redirect his attention. “Ah, yes.” He shook off whatever he had been thinking about and glanced around the room. “Shall we go outside?” I dug around in my bag for the shears case and the clippers I had brought. “No, the bathroom will work fine. Just pull one of the chairs in there and have a seat.” He followed my instructions, and when I entered the small bathroom, he sat shirtless under the fluorescent lights. I had never seen more perfectly sculpted shoulders outside of the movies and magazines. My fingers itched with the need to touch his golden-brown skin where it dipped and curved around solid muscle. The room was barely large enough for me to maneuver around him, and his masculine presence made the space feel even smaller. My heart pounded against my ribs, and my hands shook with a slight tremor as I set my tools on the vanity. What had I been thinking? This had to have been the worst idea I’d ever come up with. Breathing slowly in through my nose and discretely out through my mouth, I attempted to settle my racing heart. This was just a haircut, something I’d done a hundred times or more in my life. Granted, I usually cut women’s hair, but hair was hair. That’s all this was. A haircut. Right. “How short would you like it?” My voice was noticeably affected, deeper and more sultry than normal. I chided myself to get my crap together and stop acting like a lovesick teenager. In an attempt to act nonchalant, I gathered a towel and draped it casually around his shoulders. “I suppose it would be best to have a modern style to help me blend in.” He examined himself in the mirror, seemingly unaware of the mental breakdown I was having behind him. “That would be pretty short, are you sure you’re okay with that?” His eyes met mine in the mirror, and I felt their hold like a physical touch. “Cat, it’s just hair,” he said softly in a deep rumble. I chewed on my lower lip and nodded distractedly. “Okay, here goes nothing,” I muttered. I gathered his long mane and secured it with a rubber band, then held the scissors just above the hair tie near the base of his neck. “Last chance to change your mind.” He lifted a brow in response, telling me to get on with it.