“Put me down,” I insisted. “I’m going to be sick.” It sounded like a valid excuse, being picked up and held six feet high in the air could turn anyone’s stomach.
“I’ll carry you to the bathroom,” he insisted and started stepping towards the bedroom, but I pushed myself back and shoved my knees into his chest to force him to get away from me.
Galenor quirked an eyebrow, unsure of what would make me lose my temper and jump from the woman experiencing a laughter attack in his arms to the one kicking him, but he did not protest and bent at the waist to allow me to step out of his embrace.
I brushed his touch away and took one step back, forcing my breath to ease. Then I took another and one more, distancing myself from him. From the temptation of his body. Finally, without another word, I turned on my heels and ran into the bathroom.
“Ellyana?” a knock stopped my trance. I’d placed myself in the bathtub and turned the cold water on, then pressed my gaze to the wall, determined not to move until all the warmth torturing my body disappeared into the deepest corner of my mind, to never be allowed again. I blamed the alcohol. Fowl, fowl creation.
“Ellyana?” I heard the knock again, this time more insistent.
“How come you are not hurt today?” I shouted through the door. I don’t know why I needed to have that information, other than to give myself a few more minutes under the cold shower, hoping my body would be numb enough to stop reacting to him the way it did.
He paused, probably surprised by my question, but nevertheless, offered me an answer. “A Wind delegation is in town. They wanted my input on traditions and such. They offered me a day off if I collaborated, so I said yes.”
A day off…It meant he’d be here tomorrow. All day. Just him and I.
“Ellyana, open the door.” This time, his voice came as a threat and, before I had a chance to react, the handle snapped open and Galenor burst through the bathroom door.
To find me naked, sitting in the bathtub, shaking away the effects of his touch.
“I…” he stopped, letting his gaze slide across my body and tickle every one of my senses before he spoke again. “Muffin…” Galenor sighed.
“Not a word,” I threatened, but at the sound of my shaky voice, I decided I could do better. “Not a fucking word!” I stood, letting the cold water stream down my body, without caring what parts of me I had unveiled. “Not a word about how you want to fill me or some other shit like that or I’ll smack you! If they didn’t, I will!”
The fae remained petrified by the door, eyebrows furrowed, and lips pressed together in what I initially assumed was shock, but under longer observation, it looked like he was trying to hold back a smile.
“Fuck you, faerie!” I decided to throw the last resources of my rage, before my feet forced me down again, the cold seeping into my body making my legs shake.
“Come on, let’s get you out.” He looked unphased by my sudden outburst and was not bothered one bit by the insults he had received in such a short time. It took him two determined steps to reach the bathtub and by the time I had a chance to react, his fingers were already wrapped around my forearm.
Only then his eyes went wide, shock and surprise seeping into his features. “Ellyana, what in fucking Zaleen’s name are you doing?!?”
I’d never heard him swear, let alone use his realm’s deity to do so. It forced me to draw a sudden breath, which, combined with the accumulation of shivers and alcohol, sounded more like a moan. That single sound unleashed the fae, snapping whatever self-control he’d been exercising until then.
Before I had a chance to move away, or even react, Galenor’s arms wrapped around me, forcing me upright. He grabbed my wrists and settled them around his neck before one of his arms pressed against my ribs and the other lowered to behind my knees. Just like that, I was cold, and naked, and shivering in his arms.
The fae did not even look at me or listened to objection and carried me to the bedroom, where he gently placed my body over the duvet cover and wrapped me in it, making sure that every part of my wet body was covered and getting warm. As if that wasn’t enough, he grabbed his own blanket, the one I had offered him in those first few nights which had turned into a sort of mattress for him to sleep on, unfolded it and wrapped it around my legs.
Just when I thought I couldn’t get more embarrassed, Galenor jumped in bed behind me and spread his legs to cover each side of me, his hips joining mine from behind. His chest slammed into my back, pulling me close to him to offer his own warmth while his palms rubbed against my shoulders and arms to help my blood flow and give me more comfort.
“I can’t do this…” I shook my head slowly, too aware that his chin was right next to my shoulder, that his breath tickled my ear, and his closeness made my heart swell.
“I know you can’t,” he replied as if my words were the most normal thing coming out of my mouth. “You’ll catch a cold, and your healing skills are nowhere near as good as mine,” he spoke softly, the sound of his voice causing deep ripples inside my heart.
“You don’t understand,” I shook my head, making my wet hair fly back and forth, the confession eating at my conscience. “This needs to stop.” I paused, letting new air flow into my veins. “I can’t…” I shook my head again.
“You can’t care for a fae,” he filled the room with my unspoken words.
My silence must have been confirmation enough, because I felt him nod behind me. Understanding. Still, his hands continued to send warmth through my body, as if the information I had given him was nothing new.
We spent long minutes in silence, me shivering while Galenor did his best to warm me up. Neither of us tried to fill the void the echo of his words had left across the room. It became comfortable, as if both of us already knew this and did not want to speak the truth.
“Is that why you felt the need to bring yourself to the brink of hypothermia?” he finally asked.
Tired of the lies and of hiding, I allowed myself to confess my feelings, enjoying the new freedom my soul had been yearning for. “You do things to me…when you speak, when you touch me…Add the alcohol into the mix, I was a goner,” I chuckled the sadness away.
“I’m tired,” Galenor admitted after another minute or two of listening to each other breathe. “To be judged, to be treated like this. Everyone is basing my worth on what I was born as, not who I came to be.” He drew in a long, deep breath, as if those words had been hanging down his throat for a decade, then, with a lighter tone, he continued whispering his worries.
