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Slipping off her clothes and stepping into the shower, the water came as a soothing cascade. The powerful jets and hot pounding water eased the build-up of tension from leaning over all day.
Her hands had become unbearably dry after working with soil and wearing thick gardening gloves all day. She creamed them after stepping out of the shower.
She slipped on her pink slim-fit trousers and the white lace top. Every time she knew Nick would be around, she always made an extra effort to look her best. Touching the soft material of the trousers, her gaze was drawn to the flattering figure-hugging fit in her full-length mirror with a heavy silver frame.
For just a moment, her eyes flicked to the road map on her face. They were like accusations, stark and naked on her flesh and telling a story full of screaming horror. The scars had become thin silver threads that glowed in the sunlight.
Nick had given her confidence to wear them with pride—he had told her the scars were a part of what built her, as much as her mutated, experimental DNA. He told her that he liked everything about her, even the once-broken, jagged edges. She had blushed from the tips of her toes to the root of her hair and nodded helplessly as he kissed her scar-covered cheek.
She touched her cheek where he’d kissed her and shook her head at the smile that would not disappear.
Walking back through her house, she slipped into white sandals, tying the lace around her ankles. She straightened back up and pulled the heavy door closed behind her.
Jumping off the porch, she heard leaves and twigs crunch under her feet, and the forest hummed happily; an easy beat to stroll to. The home Nick stayed in during the week was about fifteen minutes walking distance from her home.
What if Nick wasn’t there? What if he wasn’t interested in company? She wondered with a silent groan.
She would be extremely embarrassed if she misjudged this situation. She had assumed he didn’t want to be alone but was just protecting her. She had never been impulsive, so she felt a bit foolish for acting on her instincts now, except…it was for Nick.
She hoped he wouldn’t be offended or annoyed by her showing up.
She could tell he needed company by the way he spoke on the phone though she realised she might have misinterpreted that to suit her own needs.
She shook off the worry as she stepped closer to the empty cabin. The home was quiet and unlit. A hoot from an owl just waking up for the night hunt and the scurrying of creatures over the forest floor were the only sounds to be heard.
Should she enter his home and make herself at home? Maybe she could wait outside.
She tutted, brushed off the indecisive thoughts, and entered his home as she normally did, taking off her shoes and jacket.
The first thing she did was search through his cupboard. Even if Nick only wanted a drink, nibbles would line his stomach. Putting them on a plate, she grabbed and sniffed his whiskey, grimacing, she placed it down next to his glass and turned the dial on the oven.
She immediately relaxed when she entered his home, her hands loose at her sides and a joyful smile on her lips.
Her sense of calm was not evoked by the space. It was far too clean and clinical for that. She got the sense it was just a space to lay his head, and he wasn’t convinced that he could establish roots in Moon as if he was worried he wouldn’t be welcome. It was her beast that was perking its head up happily inside her.
It was, of course, just a picture in her mind created by the emotions the beast was provoking. Her beast was glad to be near him and in his space—despite the fact that Nick also seemed apathetic with his blank home.
She checked the food, pulled out plates, hummed, and thought she was glad she wasn’t as in touch with her beast as Perdy.
When Perdy’s emotions were high, she had trouble controlling her physical changes. If Harper had been like Perdy, who had tighter control than Harper, her desire for Nick would have been very obvious.
She was turning the food with a fish slice when she heard a throat clearing. Straightening and spinning around, she scooped the glass with the spatula off the counter. When she heard it crash against the wall, she sucked in a breath and slammed her eyes shut.
Suddenly, there was a booming sound that made her flinch. Slowly, she opened her eyes to see Nick standing by the door, holding his side as he laughed. A hesitant trembling smile grew on her face.
Nick was still chuckling when he said, “You’d think I’d be shocked to see you in my home rather than the other way around.”
“I’m sorry.” Her foot banged the oven shut as she said, “I thought you might appreciate company.”
Grabbing a nearby broom, she started sweeping the floor as he cursed. “Wait a minute!” he snapped sharply, making her startle.
A quick sharp slice of pain cut through her foot before she could pull it up. She yelped as glass lacerated into the soft, unprotected pad. Hoping on one foot with a painful hiss, she lifted it and frowned. In the center of her foot, there was a sharp sliver digging into it.
“Stop moving,” he ordered, disapproval gleaming in his eyes as he walked over.
Nick carefully stepped through the glass. He was still wearing his shoes, and when he reached for her, he picked her up with ease. His hands spanned her waist, his fingertips digging into her skin like a brand, and she felt their cool imprint on her skin.
Numbers had a higher temperature than humans, and she could always tell the difference between them. She had grown to love Nick’s steady, cool touch.
