Page 98 of That’s My Orc, Tusk Off

She fit. That’s what my brain kept coming back to. She fit against my chest like we’d been designed to occupy this space together.

I spread my hand across her back. Her breath warmed my neck.

If this was fake, I didn’t want to know what real felt like.

“Is this okay?” she whispered.

“Yes.”

She fell asleep, her breathing evening out.

I lay awake, too aware of her warmth, the scent of her shampoo, and the way her hand curled into my shirt like she was holding on.

Sometime after midnight, I got up, went to the bathroom, then to the kitchen, moving quietly past the scribe asleep on the sofa. In the kitchen, I touched her things, unable to believe she was truly here with me, in my home that I hoped would one day be her home too.

Her coffee maker sat near my tea kettle. Two different ways of waking up, side by side. I ran my finger along the edge of her machine. She’d make coffee this morning. I’d watch her do it. Learn the exact motions she used for this machine as compared to the one in the break room.

Her notebook sat on the kitchen table.

I sat in my usual chair, staring at it. She’d shown me a few things, but what else did she write there? Did she spill out her thoughts like I did aloud and sometimes on my tablet?

I flipped open the cover, telling myself I’d only peek, not read the entire thing. The first page was dated the day she started.

My name was in the first entry.

I pulled the notebook closer.

Traig brought me coffee before I arrived.

I turned the page.

Traig ate nine of my cookies and looked at me like I’d given him something irreplaceable.

Another page.

Traig listened when I said the bloombacks were bonded. He changed his assessment. He learned to trust me.

My throat cinched tight.

Unable to resist, I flipped back, finding entries from her first week.

Traig made a sixty-five-page manual for my orientation. Excuse me. Sixty-seven with appendices. He wants me to succeed.

Traig fixed my filing error without making me feel stupid about it.

Traig makes coffee exactly how I like it even though I never told him how I take it.

I kept reading, my chest getting tighter with each entry.

She’d been adding me to her list of good things.

Traig kissed me like I was the only thing keeping him standing.

I set the notebook down carefully, like it might break. Or maybe I was the thing that might break.

She’d been thinking about me too. Entry by entry. Day by day. While I’d been labeling supply rooms and organizing filing cabinets, she’d been thinking about me.

I went back to bed, sliding in beside her, tugging her into my arms. She sighed and snuggled closer.