“Fine,” she said. “You want me to fucking leave, thenfineConnor. I’ll go. I can take a goddamn hint.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. I hadn’t had coffee yet, and she was being a fucking pill. But I hated that the middle emotion I recognized on her face was hurt. I don’t even know what I said to hurt her feelings, but it was there and now that I’d seen it, I wasn’t about to leave it there.
“Celestia,” I chided with as patient a tone as I could muster.
She didn’t answer. She was too busy storming through the living room again, grabbing her bag and her shoes and her extra clothes for the gym. She picked up Lila from a dead slumber and tucked her against her chest in a dramatic harumph as she marched them about the room gathering the cat’s things too.
Okay. This was getting more bizarre by the minute.
Two more minutes of angry marching had me snapping just slightly.
“Celestia! I need you to use your words,right now. What is going on? What are you looking for, baby?” I asked, honestly at a loss.
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Please don’t make me come over there,” I groaned.
“Do it,” she taunted, andoh my fucking Godshe was being impossible.
Gruffly, I swiped a hand over the top of my head and then let it fall down to the countertop in a pat. Pushing off, I moved to reach her. When I did, I worked at dislodging everything she started hoarding into her hands when sheapparentlydecided to move out of my house just a second ago.
Starting with the cat, I dislodged Lila and set her onto the little tree that was sitting tackily beside the couch. Then I removed her bag from her shoulders and the pile of miscellaneous items from her arms, setting them all down on the cushions. Finally, I unraveled the white wrap from around her neck and held it between us.
Holding onto my favorite eyes, I tried to get to the bottom of this.
“What’s wrong with these?” I asked, my voice low and calm, but unable to fully mask the disbelief in it.
She crossed her arms over her chest and sniffed her nose in the air. As I watched her, I noticed her swallow roughly like she did whenever she was frustrated. What was so wrong? Was it serious?
Using a finger to turn her chin back to me, I chided, “Honey?”
“I want the blue ones,” she pouted.
I blinked. “You’re serious?”
“Yes, Connor,” she glowered.
I blinked some more. “What iswrongwith you today?”
She hugged her arms tighter around herself and refused to meet my gaze. “They’re my favorite and I need my favorite whenever I teach. Youknowthat.”
I did know that. But it was usually never this extreme. There had to be something else. Looking around myself I tried to see if there was something I had missed. Some kind of stressor or event that was making her so cranky. And then it dawned on me.
Looking down at my wrist, I found no watch. That’s right, I rushed out of the shower to come see her. Reaching between us, I picked her wrist out of her arm pretzel and looked at her sports watch instead.
And yep. That’ll do it.
“Okay,” I said, just nodding. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
She blinked, looking me over and then away without another word.
“Do you want light blue or dark?” I asked as I turned around to grab the cat from the tree again.
She peeked an eye over at me curiously but blinked away again when she found my eyes. Just like a brat, she pouted as she said, “Both. They get sweaty and I’m doing double today.”
“Okay,” is all I said, before dropping Lila into her arms (well more like dropping the cat in front of her and making her scramble to scoop her up midair) before turning to walk away.
It only took a quick trip to the mud room and back to find her blue hand wraps, light and dark, hanging on one of the hooks. I swiped them up and made sure they didn’t drag along the floor on my way back. When I materialized in front of her with the wraps, she said nothing, but I did notice the moment’s pause in her petting of Lila before she resumed.
