The gesture finally cuts through the static in my brain, and I turn in time to see him opening my front door, “What about your tea?”
“Rain check?” He smiles, “I’ll talk to you later, Penny.”
FIVE
Asher
I’ma few steps away from Penny’s apartment when the weight of my actions settles hard on my shoulders. There’s no knowing what got into me, maybe it was the silent plea for help orsomethingin her eyes when she was talking to her mother. Maybe I wanted to be her hero once more.
I jog across the street, scraping my shoes across the mat while I fish my keys out of my pocket to unlock the door.
She’s probably going to ghost me after all this, and I wouldn’t blame her. Who invites themselves to their family Christmas? I remember the look of fear in her eyes likely echoed what she felt running into the park in her rabbit form.
There’s time for me to apologize. I can give her an easy out the next time we talk. She can use whatever frustration I might have caused to spin a believable end to this fictional relationship. Perhaps if I ask for mercy, I can avoid the months or years of awkward moments in the street which will continue until one of us decides to move.
The overhead light flickers, reminding me it needs to be replaced, and as I walk deeper into the foyer, an orange blur darts across the living room, heading towards the kitchen. Mango’s collar jingles wildly, letting me know he was watching me from the front window.
“Hey, bud.” I say, tossing my keys into the crystal bowl on the hall table and following the pitter-patter of paws against the fake tile floor drowning out the silence of my parent’s old townhouse.
I’ve lived in Madison all of my life, with most of my memories taking place in this large two-story building, both good and bad. It still has most of our old furniture from when my parents signed it over a couple of years ago. They had moved into another of our properties outside the city without a second story. It still feels strange they aren’t even in the country anymore and the distance isn’t something a dragon could manage.
No, I have to rely on human means if I want to visit my family. I have my friends, but the city is oddly isolating. Perhaps it’s why I jumped at the chance to avoid spending Christmas alone.
Mango meows, circling around his food dish, gold eyes looking up at me expectantly the moment I walk into the kitchen. The beginning of our nightly routine and one of the lesser-known reasons I don’t feel comfortable dating.
There are some people who would grab me by the shoulders and shake, telling me it’sjust a cat. He’s more than that. He’s family.
I found Mango as a kitten a couple of blocks from here, cold and shaking in a large cardboard box. He needed my help; he needed a home. I was between futures, trying to cling to the friend group which was slowly drifting away and burying myself in my new hobbies, which ultimately led me to opening Dragon’s Lair. Two lonely boys finding each other.
A few years in, he was diagnosed with a rare heart condition, and I was solemnly told he would need medication twice a day for the rest of his life. There was nothing to consider, I would do anything to keep him healthy. Dragons keep those they love close, after all.
I set my phone on the table, preemptively silencing the alarm to remind me to give him his medication, before moving over to the fridge. I pinch off a piece of cream cheese and hide the tiny white pill inside before offering it to him.
“We’re lucky your perception modifier is low.” I say, holding out my finger, nearly catching a little fang as he gobbles it down.
My phone chimes as I’m prepping his canned food, and when I check the screen, I do a double take.
There’s a new message from an unknown number. It’s Penny.
I don’t remember agreeing to the pet name ‘baby’.
I swipe open my phone, adding the contact under the name “Baby?” and shoot off a quick reply.
What would you prefer?
The three dots bounce in time with the jingle of Mango’s collar as he practically inhales his food, then stop altogether.
Baby?
Way to put me on the spot.
Warmth spreads across my chest at the thought of those green eyes looking at me with an empty challenge, the little fiery rabbit ready to stomp her displeasure to make a point.
Would she be pouting right now?
Fuck, I can almost imagine her furrowed brow and the tiny crease at the corner of her down-turned lips. Me fighting the urge to lean over and brush my lips against her cheek until I hear a tiny gasp.
You’re the one who brought it up.
