I’m afraid of him.
Afraid because I didn’t know what he was truly capable of…certain he was using magic to manipulate me. Yet those fears seem to be completely unfounded, born from my own paranoia and insecurity. His arm slowly lowers, coming to a rest against my own as he continues painting my hair. The firm, heavy weight of it fills me with this overwhelming sense of…safety.
I am afraid of him but I’mnotafraidwithhim.
I feelsafe.
Like there’s nothing in this world he wouldn’t protect me from.
How long has it been since I’ve felt that? Weeks…years….
Never.
Thank you.Those words cling to the tip of my tongue, held captive behind the back of my teeth.Thank you.Why is it so difficult to voice?
Finding resolve, I swiftly pull myself up before I can over think it and chicken out.
“Pet…” His voice is groggy like he’s only minutes from drifting off himself.
Unwrapping the cloak from my lower half, I whip it out and drape half of it across him, avoiding his questioning stare.
“You don’t have to—“
He breaks off as I settle myself back on the ground and position myself back against him fully, connected to him from my neck to my lower back so we can share the cloak. This is as much of a thank you as I can muster.
For several seconds he’s frozen stiff and my cheeks stain pink. He slowly loosens, muscles in his diaphragm expanding with an inhale. He reaches down, hooks one hand around my foot, and re-situates it between the warmth of his legs. He does the same with the other and melds himself more fully against me, head scooting forward to curl over me and waft warm breaths against the top of my head as he takes to smoothing my hair again.
Eventually, despite that we’re in the middle of the wilderness, situated on cold hard ground I drift into sleep.
Bright light sears myeyelids, the chirping of birds and the distant sounds of moving water. I take a deep breath, recognizing his unmistakable musky scent. My eyes flash open to find a bare collar bone and shoulder. So close. Because I’m tucked right into the crook of his neck. I stiffen.
Last night, he’d been tucked around me. Somehow, between then and this morning, the roles have reversed.
I blink a couple of times, blood flashing hot and then cold. My arms are wrapped around his nape, fingers curling against his bare back. And that’s not even the worst of it. One of my legs is draped around his waist, the other delving between his thighs. The cloak has somehow been kicked off, the breeze brushing against parts of me that should not be exposed to the elements.
I can’t even blame him for this…I suck in a deep breath. Okay… I need to remove myself from this very intimate position without rousing him because if he notices…if he notices…
He will never let me live it down.
Cautiously, I begin pulling my leg off of his hip, watching his chest for any changes to his breathing. And, then, the tricky part. I brace my palm ever so lightly against his shoulder so I can pluck my knee out from between his large thighs. Please don’t wake up. Please don’t…wake up,you big…warm bastard. I slide it out slowly, hardly even breathing. When I finally free myself, and he still doesn’t stir, I expel a breath in relief. I tug the shirt down to cover my exposed thighs and roll across the ground to put some distance between us before getting up. Liquid green eyes, very much open and amused bore into my soul.
I jolt with a yelp. He props his head up on an elbow and smirks. “Trying to be stealthy?”
He doesn’t look the least bit like he’s just woken up. My chest sinks. “H-how long have you been awake?”
“A while.”
“Why didn’t you wake me up?” I ask in mortification.
“Couldn’t bring myself to. You looked so comfortable,” he says, flashing me a wide grin. “And you needed the rest.”
“I—it—sorry, I have no idea how that even happened,” I stammer.
“Howcouldthat have happened?” he teases, chuckling as he hauls himself into a sitting position.
“I…must’ve been cold,” I mumble.
“Uh, no, you stayed quite warm, in my opinion.” He plucks the canteen from the ground and takes a swig before handing it off to me.
