Sprawled out lazily, leaning back against the armrest of an old, not-so-plush couch, I flipped absentmindedly through one of my older journals, hoping it would give me some insight to my past. Julian poked through the shop, below; though late in the night, he was restless, and rather than try to get any sleep–try as I might to convince him, he was just as stubborn as I was–he was rather interested in searching through the wares the shopfront held. I wasn't going to stop him; really, I had nothing to hide, and if it kept his mind occupied in the early moments of the morning, I was happy to oblige.

I squinted, the candlelight flickering and fading slowly. The wick had nearly burnt up, the crimson wax melted over the gold of the candelabrum, flowing its way through the intricate designs carved within. Lips pursed, I straightened, twisting in my seat to angle the journal near the dying flame, squinting to see as best as I could as the light slowly dissipated. It was a testament of the hour, and weariness was getting the better of me. At this point, I was prepared to drag Julian up but the scruff of his neck and into bed, but I thought better, giving him a few more minutes before I decided to take matters into my own hands.

Setting the journal aside, I groaned, cracking my back as I stretched my arms high above my head. How long had I been sitting there? My muscles ached and my neck was sore, and it took a few blinks to adjust my eyes to the darkness of the bedroom. Maybe it was time to go to bed, after all…

CRASH!

I yelped in surprise, hearing a commotion from below, followed by a frustrated curse from Julian's lips. It took a moment to compose myself before jumping to my feet, crossing the room in three long strides and alighting the stairs, two at a time, clenching to the railing to prevent me from falling. With a grunt, I jumped the last few stairs, landing heavily on my feet, searching for the source of the noise; behind the counter, Julian stood, backed against the wall, staring at the surface before him, the top of a cabinent that held several fantastic oddities and Arcana from around the world. However, it wasn't with interest that he looked.

Already pale features seemed to whiten more, to the point of turning a sickly green. His stormy eye fixed on a point upon the counter, and following his gaze, I stepped closer, brows furrowing at what it was I saw.

It took all I had not to snort, and even more to keep my lips from twitching in an amused smirk. Dead center of the counter sat a spider–not just any sort of spider, however. The creature was a tarantula, rather large and extremely fuzzy, and deep sapphire in color. She was a regular around the shop, and Asra and I had a habit of keeping a special stash of food about for her when she visited. Clearly, the creature startled Julian as he poked about, and as I drew closer, his expression flickered to me, eye wide, lips twisted into a grimace.

"Th-the spider."

He was not having it, and I wasn't able to hold back my mirth any longer. With an unattractive snort, I let out a laugh, covering my face with both my hands. He watched on in horror as he realized I was laughing at him, and after a moment, his grimace melted away, forming into a deep pout, his eye adopting a puppy-like stare.

"And what's so funny, Athena?" he asked, though it was more of a whine than a demand. Keeping his back to the wall, eye flickering every so often back to the tarantula, Julian eased toward me, obvious distaste on his features. It took mere seconds before he was hovering behind me, and composing myself, I ran my hands through my hair, shaking my head in amusement.

"She's harmless," I replied, patting him lightly on the chest. "She likes to visit us every now and then, so she's quite used to us." I turned my gaze back to Julian, his pout still stubbornly fixed on his face, and without a second thought, I stood lightly on my toes, brushing a soft kiss against his lips. He relaxed, if only for a moment, and when his eye opened after, it fixed back on the tarantula, his body stiffening again.

"Be that as it may, love," Julian said stiffly, lips pulled thin. "I have never been, ah, easy with spiders. Especially big, hairy spiders."

"Fine, fine," I sighed, patting his chest again. "I'll let her out. Just get your butt upstairs; it's late and you're exhausted, alright?"

He glanced at me skeptically, but relented, brushing a kiss against my brow. "As you wish, my dear," he murmured, pausing only to touch his fingers gently to my jaw, before easing himself up the steps.

Waiting until I heard the bed sink above me, I stepped toward the counter, holding out my hand for the tarantula to ease herself onto it. It took her a moment, and steadily, her limbs drew her forward, nestling her in the palm of my hand. I stroked her body gently, and swore I could see her blink happily, and I carried her out the door, opening it quietly, passing over the threshold. I did not walk far, only enough to reach a barrel that sat outside the shop, and placed her upon the lid, kneeling to look at her eye to eye.

"Come back tomorrow, sweetie," I murmured. "I'll have some food for you, tomorrow." I had no idea whether or not the creature could understand me, but she tapped her foot on the barrel's top, as though acknowledging my words. With a soft chuckle, I straightened up again, backing away and walking back to the shop, a gentle wind ruffling my hair.

"Julian, not liking spiders?" I mused to myself, crossing my arms over my chest. "That's not something I ever expected…"