Nathan laughed, leading the way back to the living room. He took his seat in an armchair, and Harper reclaimed her seat on the sofa.
Harper settled more comfortably into the plush sofa cushions, curling her legs underneath her. The patter of rain against the windows created a soothing backdrop to their conversation.
"Would you like me to light a fire?" Nathan gestured toward the stone fireplace. "These late summer nights can still get chilly, and there's nothing cozier than a crackling fire."
The words hit Harper like a physical blow, knocking the air from her lungs. Her chest constricted as memories flooded back - choking smoke, screams, the roar of flames consuming everything in their path. The acrid stench of burning wood and melting plastic filled her nostrils, phantom echoes of that day she'd tried so hard to forget. She forced herself to take slow, deep breaths, counting in her mind, as she'd learned to do.One… two… three… four...
Nathan leaned forward, concern etching deep lines around his warm brown eyes. His hand hovered in mid-air, as if unsure whether to reach for her. "Harper, what's wrong?"
Harper wrapped her arms around herself, trying to still the tremors. "Four years ago, there was a fire at the bank where I worked." Her voice came out barely above a whisper. "It started in the electrical room. The smoke was so thick..." She swallowed hard. "Three people didn't make it out. Jenny from accounting, who always brought homemade cookies to share. Mark, the security guard who told terrible dad jokes. And Sarah, who'd just returned from a vacation in Barbados. Her boyfriend had asked her to marry him, and she was so happy, showing us pictures...."
Reyna whimpered in her mind, sharing the remembered terror.
"I haven't been able to be around fire since then," Harper continued. "Even fireplaces. And the smell of smoke. It takes me right back. I know it's irrational, but-"
"It's not irrational at all," Nathan interrupted gently. "That's a traumatic experience. I'm so sorry you went through that."
Harper drew in a deep, steadying breath, focusing on pulling clean, fresh air into her lungs. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment - here she was, having a meltdown over a simpleoffer to light a fireplace. What must Nathan think of her? She hadn't meant to dump all of that on him, a virtual stranger.
The trembling in her limbs began to subside as she concentrated on her surroundings - the soft patter of rain against the windows, the gentle whir of the ceiling fan, the distant sound of a motorcycle.
He reached across the gap that separated them and took her fingers in a comforting clasp.
"You don't need to be embarrassed," he said softly, his thumb brushing across her knuckles. "Trauma doesn't follow logical rules. And you survived something terrible."
His touch was comforting rather than intrusive, and Harper found herself grateful for the connection. The last lingering tremors stilled as she focused on the warmth of his hand holding hers.
Nathan studied her down-turned face with the same gentle patience he used when teaching his music students. The lamplight cast shadows across his features, highlighting the warmth in his brown eyes.
"Have you..." Nathan paused, choosing his words with care. His voice was soft, filled with genuine concern. "Have you considered talking to someone? A therapist, maybe?"
Heat crept up her neck as she ducked her head, unable to meet his eyes. "I meant to," she mumbled. "They provided a therapist. I kept telling myself I would make an appointment, but..." Her voice trailed off.
Nathan remained silent, patient, his thumb still making small, comforting circles on her hand. The quiet stretched between them until Harper couldn't bear it anymore.
"I didn't want to go," she confessed in a rush, her words tumbling over themselves. "A therapist would want me to talk about it, to relive everything happening. I couldn't... I didn't want to think about it, let alone talk about it." Her voice crackedon the last words, and she swallowed hard against the tightness in her throat. Memories she'd tried so hard to bury threatened to surface, making her chest constrict. "It was easier to... push it away. To pretend none of it ever happened." Her fingers trembled where they rested in Nathan's gentle grasp.
Nathan squeezed her hand. "I can understand that. Sometimes facing trauma head-on feels impossible."
Relief washed through Harper at his understanding. No judgment, no pressure - just acceptance.
Harper cleared her throat, desperate to change the subject. "So, um, I'm curious..." She gestured vaguely around the room, including Jill who had curled up on the floor next to Nathan's feet. "How did you discover all this? The supernatural world, I mean. And Jill - a jackalope of all things!"
Nathan's eyes lit up, and he released her hand to lean back in his chair. The loss of contact left her fingers oddly cold, but she tucked them into her lap, focusing on his story instead of the lingering sensation of his touch.
"It's actually quite a story." He chuckled, running a hand through his sandy hair. "A few months ago, I was teaching a half-day at the conservatory. When I got home, I found this injured baby rabbit just outside my garage. At least, I thought it was just a rabbit at first, then it hopped closer, right up to me, and I got my first look at her."
Harper's eyes widened. "Jill?"
Nathan nodded, settling back in his chair. "Exactly. I found her huddled against my garage door, bleeding from what looked like bite marks. Probably a predator attack." He shook his head, remembering. "I had no idea what to do. I mean, you can't exactly walk into any vet clinic with a mythological creature."
Harper leaned forward, fascinated. Reyna perked up her ears too, equally invested in the story. At their feet, Jill twitched in her sleep, one ear flopping over her face.
"So I googled veterinary clinics," Nathan continued, "figuring maybe somewhere rural would be... I don't know, more discreet? Less likely to call animal control or the media?" He ran a hand through his hair, making it stand up in disheveled spikes. "I found this place called Country Veterinary Clinic. It was out in the countryside, good reviews, and all that."
Harper's eyes widened. "Troy's clinic?" She'd heard about it from Katerina earlier that day.
"Yep. Though I didn't know that at the time." Nathan chuckled. "So I ran next door to the neighbors - they do dog rescue - and borrowed a crate, and put my injured mythological creature in it, and drove out there expecting... well, I don't know what I was expecting. But definitely not what happened."
