When?
?
Did you die in the house when it was used as a hospital after World War I? Or when it was a home for soldiers with combat fatigue in the 30s and 40s?
No.
When it was used for tuberculosis patients?
No.
Was it in the 1900s?
No.
And the more she asked, the more he remembered.
And the more they talked, the more he realized that this woman was something special. Something radiant and open, like the sunflowers that used to grow in the Miller’s fields, way down towards the little town.
Can you leave?
Nyx hesitated. No, he couldn’t. Not while the house was standing. He was bound to it. But if he told Grace that, would she ruin her work to set him free?
Did he want to be free now? Free would mean no more Grace. No more carnal delights.
Of course, if he left, if she burnt the place down or ran it through with a wrecking ball, she’d have to leave, too, and The Stranger wouldn’t find her.
“Sorry, touchy question. I wasn’t, like...trying to get rid of you. I mean... This is awkward. You’re pretty creepy, you know?”
What the hell was he supposed to say to that?
“That’s not an insult. More like a fact. To humans, you’d be creepy. But if this is your home, we’re going to have to work out some kind of arrangement, because I’m trying to get guests in here soon. You can’t be all tall, rippling shadow man in the corner. Someone would die of a heart attack, and that’s bad press. Sorry, do you know that expression?”
Nyx rolled his eyes, but he didn’t think it was particularly visible. The human kept talking.
“Have you had other human friends?”
That one was easy.
No.
Was it just him, or did she look pleased at that?
“Oh. Cool. Well, umm... So, awkward question...” She twirled her curls around her fingers, got them tangled, and banged her elbow on the wall trying to shake her hand free.
He smiled. Clumsy, determined, persistent as sunlight.
His hand reached the glass before she was done cursing and rubbing her elbow.
Brave
“Brave or stupid? My parents would say this is a really dumb thing to do, to risk all my money on this... to move from Syracuse to Antonia, to live with my Nana on the weekends so she wouldn’t have to go in the nursing home...” Grace’s sentences trailed off, drifting away as the steam billowed around her, putting a sheen on her tanned face. “I’ve risked it all on this. I can’t quit. That’s not brave. It’s just how things are.”
Trapped. He remembered feeling some sort of trap closing around him as well. What was it? This place... Staying here... Why did he have to stay here?
The warm body of a woman.
The rutting. The groans of pleasure. His loud, hers muffled and soft. After hearing Grace’s noises, the ones so fresh in his mind, these old memories now had a haze of doubt. Whoever she was hadn’t been genuine with her love. Or her lust?
