“So, you’ll just go back home whenever you go back home,” Alison said.
Feral nodded, but didn’t seem very happy about it.
Alison seemed to take a second of ‘stillness’, not really interacting with him. Almost like she was stepping back, without physically stepping away from him.
“You alright, love?” he asked, lifting an arm to reach toward her.
“Of course,” she said brightly, lifting her hand to shoo him into the bathroom he stood blocking the door of. “Go take off your clothes real quick and give them to me so I can get them cleaned before you have to go.”
He looked at her, knowing he was missing something but not sure what it was, then backed into the bathroom. “Okay. Give me one second.”
She barely had time to take a breath and he was opening the door again, just a crack to hand her his clothes through. “Here they are. I really appreciate you doing this for me.”
“Not a problem. And breakfast will be ready when you come down.”
“I’ll be right there,” he said.
Alison turned and walked away, skipping down the steps to the first floor. Once she was sure she was out of his line of sight, she dropped the happy act, even taking a few minutes to simply stand quietly at the base of the stairs as she took slow measured breaths and steeled herself against having to go into the kitchen and pretend everything was alright. And in a way it was. She wasn’t surprised that Feral would be leaving and she’d most likely not see him again. But she was disappointed. She’d hoped that his pretty words and seemingly sincere affection for her was real. And maybe in the moment it was. But now he’d confirmed he was leaving, and he’d made it clear he was returning to Alliance, not here. Despite the fact that they’d just met, it still stung. Her attention was drawn toward the kitchen by the clinkof utensils against plates. Sighing, she smiled, held it in place and walked toward the sounds.
Maeve looked up when Alison walked into the kitchen. “There you are! I served your plate for you.”
“Thanks, Maeve. I’m going to throw these into the washer real quick, then I’ll be right back.” Alison went into the mudroom, which doubled as a laundry room off the side of the kitchen, and quickly had Feral’s clothes in the washer. A few minutes later she was seated at the table, forcing herself to eat a small serving of Maeve’s quiche. And a few minutes after that she heard footsteps on the stairs before coming toward them in the kitchen.
“Damn, that was fast,” Niko said, looking up at Feral walked into the room.
“Perk of being Variant. No time to waste in the shower. Get in, get clean, get out,” Feral answered.
Alison, who sat with her back to the doorway, turned to look at Feral. Her eyes widened and she almost choked. He stood there with one of her bath sheets wrapped around his waist, his hair was damp, though appeared to have been towel-dried, and his upper body was on full display. Her eyes focused on the thin line of dark hair climbing from beneath his towel up toward his chest and the few stray water droplets clinging to the hairs of his chest.
“Wow,” Maeve said, her attention on Feral’s body, too.
Niko swung his attention to Maeve exaggeratedly, his expression clearly questioning her appreciation of Feral’s physique.
“No! I mean, yeah, he’s attractive, but I was referencing the scars more than anything,” Maeve snapped at Niko. “Like it’s any of your business anyway.”
Niko glared at her. “It’s my business,” he said steadily with almost no inflection at all.
Maeve made a face at him.
“You’ve really been through the wringer,” Alison said, her own gaze taking in all his healed injuries.
Feral looked down at his own body, then shrugged. “I guess so. I don’t really notice them anymore. It was just the way it was,” he said.
“I’m glad you survived,” Alison said. She got up and walked over to the stove where Maeve had left the casserole dish sitting, and scooped Feral out a large serving, added a few slices of bacon to the plate, then walked back over and handed it to Feral. “Want more coffee, or maybe some orange juice or milk?”
“Coffee works for me,” he said.
Alison topped off his cup, then picked up her plate, intending to throw it away since she just couldn’t seem to make herself eat at the moment.
“What are you doing with that?” Niko asked.
“I’m just not very hungry, but I already ate some of it, so I was going to throw it away.”
“I’ll eat it,” he said, holding out his hand for the plate.
Alison laughed and handed him her plate. “Should have known,” she said.
“Did you eat anything at all?” Feral asked.
