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I don’t know why I find it important that he’s translating everything he’s saying into sign for August’s sake, but his pack mates don’t do it.
In fact, they hardly interact with the guy. I want to be nosy and ask more about their pack dynamics, but I have my own relationships to worry about.
I realize I’ve been signing everything as well, stopping mid-sentence and frowning at my hands as they form shapes and movements. Did I consciously decide to sign so August knew what we were talking about?
I look over to Colter and he smirks at me. I narrow my eyes at him and try to stay focused on something Parker is saying about a play we did at school once. I was an angel, and he wasn’t in the play, but he thought I would be twice as beautiful with rainbow wings, so he took some markers to the white feathered costume and went to town.
It’s kind of funny, actually, seeing as no one knew until it was time to go on stage. “It was our own little secret. I felt like a princess up on stage with those on my back…”
The smile freezes on my face. I wasn’t just listening to a story, I wasthere.
“You remember that?” He says in a choked whisper.
My fingers brush against my quivering lips as I use my breathing to try and re-center myself. “I t-think so. I…parts. I have this image of horribly scribbled wings with every color in the marker box hanging from my back, and the gasp of people backstage as they saw what had happened to the costume that one of the parents had lovingly made for us.
“I don’t remember much else…except for your smile. You were in the front row, your eyes twinkling, and you were so damn proud of your art project.”
He’s crying now, and I find that seeing his face cry makes my face cry. “You know, I don’t think hanging out is a good idea. You keep making me feel what you feel and then soon enough I’m crying again.”
He grasps my hands in his and something loosens in my chest, a piece of my past falling into place. I don’t know the man in front of me, but I did at one point, as a gap-toothed child that was always getting us into trouble.
I shift my attention to my apparent father, who is also crying. For some reason that makes me laugh a little bit, because it seems like there are more tears than words happening.
“I’d like the chance to get to know you again, if you’re open to that. This must be…incredibly overwhelming for you. You don’t know what it means to me that you accepted me into your new home on such short notice. Seeing the two of you together again…your mama would be so proud.”
“Do you need anything right now? We keep asking you questions, prodding at your memories, but do you have any questions? Do you want a break to go and collect yourself?”
I stare at August as he asks this, cutting a look at Parker’s alphas when they give him a small eye roll. My own alphas have been very supportive during this whole conversation we’ve been having, staying quiet and making sure I knew they were there if I needed them, but they’re not overstepping anything, and they’re not adding to any of my stress right now.
There’s definitely tension between my alphas and Parker’s, no doubt not helped by the fact that James is still in a cast with a bruised face, but I feel like there needs to be more space in between them.
“Actually, maybe a walk outside would be good. I think it might help clear my head a bit,” I sign and say at the same time, still a bit nervous to make too much eye contact with August.
“I’ll make you some tea to help calm your nerves,” Kit mumbles with a kiss to my forehead. Swoon. I watch him walk away, feeling heat rise to my cheeks when everyone catches me checking out his ass. It’s such a good one though.
For some reason, I look to August as I get up and go to the back door, feeling like maybe he wanted to talk to me, and that was why he suggested the outside time. Something eases in him as he gets off the couch and James smacks my ass as I walk by him, startling me right into August. His hands land on my hips to steady me and it’s almost as if a brand has been pressed to my skin. His thumbs rest right above the material of my pants, in a small gap below where the hemline of my shirt rests.
Colter growls and even though I know August is deaf, he seems to understand that he can’t touch me like that, so he pulls his hands back and stuffs them in his pocket as he follows me outside. I don’t know why I enjoyed that touch so much, but I need to remember who he is to me.
It’s nice not feeling like I’m pressured to talk right now, the fresh mountain air soothing me as my hands trail through the various brushes and shrubs and wild grasses that surround the house. There’s a fire pit surrounded by a bunch of wooden stumps, but I bypass that, simply walking without aim.
All the noise and questions and thinking I’ve been doing for the past few hours seem to fade away as I find comfort in the forest that reminds me of my life back at the compound in a similar setting. I let the bark imprint itself on my palm as I choose a pine tree at random to press it onto. The bite of the rough surface reminds me that this is my body, and that I am in control.
“Why do you do that? You were doing that last time we met too, while we spoke. Your hands seemed almost glued to the tree.”
I continue the action for a moment longer before peeling my hand off and showing it to August. There’s a perfect imprint of the tree bark on my hand that lasts for a few seconds, which makes me smile. “Where I spent most of my life…there weren’t many choices for entertainment. We didn’t have access to many materials and it doesn’t take long to get creative when you’re a child without toys.
“During our leisure time, the other sisters and I would always hunt for the prettiest designs in the tree bark, then imprint it onto our hands and compare designs.”
“Doesn’t it hurt?”He asks as he gently handles my palm, his thumb sweeping over the already fading grooves.
I shrug. “I need the reminder sometimes…maybe this will make me sound crazy, but there’s not much I’ve had control over in my life, and feeling the tree copy itself onto my hand sort of reminds me that I’m more than I realize. That there’s a whole forest out there, and that each tree is different. That it’s okay ifIfeel different, because I have my own beautiful mark too…”
He smiles a soft, shy, unsure thing, before pressing a whisper of a kiss to my now smooth but reddened palm. “I like that. Could you help me make an imprint? Which tree should I use?”
I look around, as if this is a very important assignment. I scan all the nearby trees, zeroing in on one a little bit further away. The bark has an almost rippled, wavy pattern to it in one spot, as if that part of the tree is in motion while the rest of it stays still. Sort of like August in reverse. Everyone around him is loud and demanding, but he remains calm and steady, quietly observing everything around him.
“Right here. This is the one.”He puts a palm to the tree, but I grab his hand because he’s got the placement all wrong. I reposition his hand so that the wavy lines run diagonally and centered across his palm, pushing his hand into the tree briefly as I count in my head. He watches me the whole time, but I can’t acknowledge that.
