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“Fun.” He grins. “You do know what that is, don’t you, Tally?” he teases, prodding me with his tail.
Laughing, I smack it away, more relieved than I care to admit that we are back to normal, but there is still a shadow in his eyes. I don’t ask, though, because if he wanted to tell me, he would. I bet it’s about his friend. He was clearly upset about it yesterday. When he’s ready, he will tell me. I just hope he doesn’t let it eat him up. Maybe fun would be good.
Once we’ve eaten, I slip on my shoes, and he leads me downstairs. I wave at some people I know before Cato tugs me outside, stealing me away for himself before the kids can reach me.
“You’re mine tonight.” He grins down at me. “So hurry before the brats find you,” he teases and pulls me after him as I laugh.
“Where are we going?” I ask as he guides me across a square. There’s a statue in the middle I want to get a better look at, but I don’t have time with him pulling me after him.
“To see my favourite places of course.” He grins back at me, his eyes twinkling as he pulls me to a giant building across the square, with once white stone steps and pillars outside. It has a peaked roof with Old World Museum written on it, and excitement pools inside me.
“Museum? Really?” I almost clap as I hurry to his side.
The building stretches as far as the eye can see, and it’s obvious it used to be beautiful and busy with life. Some windows are shattered or gone entirely, and some have small lights peeking through them like there are monsters inside, but when I step into the leaf-covered marble foyer, none of the destruction matters.
It’s stunning. “Wow,” I whisper as I spin, taking in the high ceilings with paintings covering every inch, clearly hand done, a domed top, and what used to be a reception area.
When I drop my head back down, I see Cato staring at me, his lips parted and an unreadable look in his eyes, but my body knows it and heats. We just stare at each other, the hunger written starkly across his features making heat crawl through my body until he suddenly looks away, freeing me from his gaze.
“It’s beautiful,” I tell him, and he glances back at me, purposely flicking his eyes down my body and back up to meet mine.
“It certainly is.”
I can’t help the blush that stains my cheeks so I turn away again, wandering around to explore and see as much as I can. He follows after me, always on my heels, but in companionable silence to let me see everything. The fact I know he’s there, watching and protecting me, has my heart beating double time, which he can undoubtedly hear. When we move into a huge, open space filled with paintings and a skylight above showing the stars, I find myself sitting on a bench and looking around.
Cato makes a noise, and I look at him. “What?” I ask, a smile playing on my lips.
“This is my favourite spot,” he murmurs before sitting next to me, his thigh pressed against the full length of mine. His tail, which I don’t think he even notices, wraps around my ankle and pulls me closer. “Last time I was here, I had this feeling… Not very scientific of me, I know, but we are instinctual creatures, and as much as I try not to be, I still am.”
“A feeling?” I prompt, looking over at him and realising he belongs here. He is equally as mysterious and beautiful as the art surrounding us.
“That everything was about to change,” he whispers, his eyes dropping to my lips before he stands and holds out his hand to me. “Come on, let me show you something else.”
I lift my hand and place it in his, his huge palm dwarfing and warming mine as he softly tugs me to my feet and leads me from the museum. He shortens his long strides to match mine and makes sure his body is to the outside to shield me from all prying eyes and potential threats. His eyes scan the horizon, but when I squeeze his hand, he glances down, and his face softens as a smile curls his lips.
“You suit the night,” he says randomly, making me tilt my head in question. As if he understands the gesture, he carries on. “The moon shimmers in your blonde hair, making it look like spun gold, your eyes light up with the stars, and your pale skin shines so bright, you might as well live up there with the celestial gods.”
I stumble to a stop and gawk at him, but he’s oblivious, just tugging me along like he didn’t just say the most beautiful things anyone—human or monster—has ever said to me. “Cato,” I call, tugging him to a stop until he turns to me. “You can’t just say stuff like that and continue walking!”
“Why not?” he asks, his brow furrowed in confusion.
“Because… Because…” I huff, making him grin as I point at his face. “Stop being so cute and nice!” I storm past him, hearing his laughter chasing after me. A moment later, he takes my hand again and steers me in a different direction, towards the library. We head inside, and he happily waves at his people there. They wave back. Some eye me curiously, while some outright ignore me.
Rome wasn’t built in a day, and it’s better than eating me.
Though I wouldn’t mind if Cato did…
No, bad brain!
He leads me through the stacks. The scarred, wooden structures have clearly been cleaned and righted, and when we break out into the middle, I gape. It’s beautiful, it truly is. Tables are scattered in the middle, filled with monsters reading by candlelight. I can’t help but feel at home here. The bookcases spread around us in a circle and stretch as far as the eye can see, with a huge, iron staircase towards the back leading to an upper level, where there are more bookcases. Some of them have spaces on them, some books are bent or crinkled or even destroyed, but it’s clear they have spent a lot of time cleaning and fixing this place. The walls are cracked but clean, some of the windows are busted but taped over, and candles hang in lanterns, covering the space in a warm, welcoming glow.
The flooring has been scrubbed, and even though some of it is scarred with what looks like claw marks, it is definitely still beautiful. “This place is so cosy,” I murmur as he lets me look around, and then, without a word, he gives me a tour of the building. He shows me books still locked behind cases, and the ones they couldn’t fix, which are piled carefully in the back. There’s a monster there working through as many as he can, trying to save them, which both surprises and endears me.
Then Cato leads me upstairs, his claws clicking on the metal rail, and once there, he releases my hand. “Wander to your heart’s content,” he instructs.
I do, moving through the stacks and running my fingers across the spines. I slide some out to flip through, grinning at the fact that they have been looked after. They even have labels for borrowing them. My heart settles and peace fills me the longer I wander. Being here is like being at home, and for a moment, I can almost imagine the library I used to spend my childhood in, curled up reading in a corner to pass the day. Eventually, I decide to find Cato and have to search the aisles to do so.
When I find him again, he’s leaning back, his legs folded against the opposite bookcase. His head is tilted to the side, and he holds a romance novel in his hand, the tome looking tiny in his huge grip. For a moment, I just watch the way his eyes flick eagerly across the page, the way his claws softly flip to the next one, and how his mouth moves with the words as if he needs to speak them out loud.
