The little things
1078 Words
She quickly stands and moves out of my reach, her hands scrambling to cover the marks. I rise slowly from my knees, careful not to scare her. She stares at the ground, her face a mix of fear, embarrassment, and guilt.
"No, this isn’t what it looks like. I’m fine, really." Her voice cracks, the playful tone she once had completely gone. She seems even smaller now, clutching her sides. I take a step, and she flinches. My heart aches at the sight. I sigh and move slowly, offering her the sweater.
"Here." I keep my voice steady, refusing to look away from her fragile frame. I just want to see her eyes once before I leave to hunt down the bastards who did this to her and make them pay—slowly, painfully, until nothing remains but pieces. Kaax was on board; nothing could stop me.
"John, John, Jonathan!" Her voice slices through the red haze of my thoughts.I blink and see her pulling on the sweater, letting the sleeve hang as she brings the fabric to her nose, inhaling deeply.
"It’s okay because I found you, and now I never have to go back." Her voice is low, tears brimming in her eyes. I take the last two steps and pull her into my arms, her tears seeping through my shirt. I pat her back, letting her cry before I hush her, trying to soothe away her pain.
"Shhh, no, baby, no. If you don’t want to, you don’t have to. You can stay here. You can travel the world if that’s what you wish—I will follow and make sure no harm ever comes to you. I promise you, Aztiri." Her name rolls smoothly off my tongue, the promise soaking into every syllable. Her arms wrap around my waist, holding on as if I’m the rock keeping her from vanishing into space.
"Thank you, John." She finally calms down, muttering as she wipes her face, turning so red I can see the tips of her ears flush.
"I have some stew I can heat up. Take a seat, and I’ll get you another cup of coffee." I guide her gently to her chair; she moves without resistance. "Are you allergic to anything?" I ask, handing her a tissue. She shakes her head.
"How are you with spice?"
"I love spicy food." Her mood brightens as she glances at the pot I set on the stove. "How spicy are we talking?"
"Just a little heat. One of these days, I’ll make my famous spicy chicken and rice. My brother used to say it wasn’t hot even as sweat rolled down his face." I chuckle at the memory while stirring the pot. "That must have been over ten years ago. I lost my brother in my early twenties." I continue, rambling as I work. "He didn’t have kids, so when he and his mate died in a car crash, my pack really felt the loss."
"What about your parents?" she asks, moving to stand beside me. I keep my eyes down, feeling the sting of grief I’ve held back for years. The soft pat of her bare feet on the floor echoes in the house. Silence settles, broken only by the hiss of the flames under the stove.
"They passed when I was a kid," I answer, the pain clear in my voice. She wraps her arms around my waist.
"I’m sorry." I pat her small hands with my free one.
"It’s okay."
"Let me guess—you’re fine?" she huffs, squeezing me tighter.
"I am. I found you." I guide her to stand beside me and kiss her palm, watching her cheeks flush. Lifting her onto the counter, she smacks my shoulder playfully.
"How can you say something so cheesy?"
"If honesty is cheesy, so be it. I’ll be cheesy just to see you smile." I bring the stirring spoon to her lips after cooling it slightly. She tastes it, and her eyes light up. I watch her lick her lips and let out a small moan.
"It's fantastic." She smiles at me, and I lean in until my lips brush hers. A spark of lightning and heat rushes through my body.
"It's done. Shall we eat?" I say breathlessly, my hands on her waist, feeling her warmth seep into my cold shell. She nods, resting her forehead against mine, until her stomach growls. I laugh and set her on her feet.
We eat in silence.
"You said you fell from a cliff. Were you hiking alone?" I ask. She shakes her head while drying the spoon in her hand.
"No, I was hiking with a group of friends."
"Wouldn't they be worried about you?" I ask while scrubbing the bowls.
"Ha, no. If they even notice, it’ll be at the end of the trip," I say, placing the dish in the sink.
"How long is your trip?"
"Four days."
"What day are you on?"
"The second day, though it feels like day three," she says, glancing at the clock. It’s seven in the morning. "Nope, it's day three now."
"So for two days they won’t even look for you," I growl.
"Of course not." She hears the growl but ignores it. "They’re too busy with their mates to notice." Drying my hands, I pull her close.
"Well, you’re doing the same, so they shouldn’t worry. I have a phone you can use to call them if you like." She stands on her tiptoes, but still isn’t tall enough, so I bend down and she kisses my nose instead of my lips, as I was expecting. She flashes me a wicked grin before turning to dry the bowl.
"And what a wonderful time I’m having." I kiss the top of her head.
"You smell amazing, like Belize Sage (Salvia miniata) and Dahlia (Dahlia pinnata)." I had this habit of saying both the common and scientific names of flowers. I tried to stop myself, but it just slipped out.
‘Well, duh, you haven’t talked to anyone for several years,’ Kaax laughs. I scowl, but then a hand cups my jaw and pulls me to meet her gaze.
"I’m sorry, you’re way too cute. I want to laugh so much right now," she says with a smile.
"I wasn’t trying to be."
"You smell like Chocolate Cosmos (Cosmos atrosanguineus) and Mahogany (disambiguation)." Her words warm my face.
"Have a knack for botany, do you?"
"A bit."
- Writer
