xxx
We spent the night in the den, settled on its floors. I retrieved armfuls of pillows and blankets from my hallway closet thinking to make us a more comfortable nest, but Scar simply grabbed my hand, and pulled me down to the floor onto him. He cradled my head on his chest, and the weight of his arms resting at the curve of my waist was enough to hold me securely to him.
As I lay there, his heart hammering against my ear, I marveled again at how very improbable this moment would have once been, and at how right it felt nevertheless. So much had changed, but I was grateful that it had. Although Scar remained silent and still under me, I suspected that he was not sleeping, but was lost in his own thoughts as well---whatever they were. At our feet, the fireplace crackled and the room remained awash in light because I had forgotten to turn the lights down. I considered rising to turn them down but I floated into sleep before I could finish the thought.
What seemed like only minutes later, I was awoken by Scar's tug on my hair. I fought to open my eyes but my lids felt as heavy as millstones. For a long time I had been unable to sleep through the night---had not---until that day I had broken down and wept in the hills. Even now, I was rarely able to sleep soundly until morning, and it seemed that this night was to be no exception.
"You're as bad as a cat," I mumbled at Scar, knocking his hand away as his trilling laughter vibrated through his chest under me. Groggily I pushed myself off his torso, the upper half of my body dangling awkwardly to the floor, as I stretched my arm to grab my phone from the small desk table, knocking off smaller objects in the process. Scar helpfully grabbed my thighs to keep me from sliding off, and I sleepily grunted my thanks.
Cracking my eyes open to peer at the glowing digits on the small screen I held in my hand, I registered the time, made a quick mental calculation and snapped my head back to him in disbelief.
"It's only been three hours! Go to sleep," I groaned miserably. Scar growled his displeasure but deciding that I would ignore himfor once, I slid completely off his body and down to the floor, my back pressed into his side, facing the cold white walls that I had hated on sight when I first saw the house, but had never gotten around to repainting.I tried my best to remain awake and alert to Scar's next move, because I was sure he would not permit me to sleep without further interruption, but against my will my lids began to droop again. As if from far away I noted that his growling had stopped, and knew a moment's wariness. When his arm dropped over and around me suddenly, I started a little, but then with a small sigh of defeat, sunk completely and---happily undisturbed---back into sleep.
When I woke again, the sun was streaming in through the windows, and I was curled up alone in the pile of rejected blankets. The fire had died out at some point, but the heat was turned up high, so the room was pleasantly warm. I stood up, wincing as my muscles complained about their night on the floor, and wondered where my overnight visitor could be. As if in answer to my unspoken question, I heard a rough snarl from somewhere in the kitchen and made a beeline for it, pausing to hit the lights as I left.
I stopped in the kitchen doorway to stretch lazily, arms extended over my head, and the small of my back arched into the indescribably luxurious feeling of a new morning. I quirked an eyebrow up mid-stretch as I took in the unlikely domestic image before me. Scar was standing, legs planted solidly on the kitchen floor, with his arm draped across my open fridge door, and was staring down with undisguised disgust at its contents. Much the same as I had probably regarded the food he and Scale had offered me, I thought grinning widely.
"Sucks, doesn't it?" I said aloud, walking up to him. Scar snarled, shaking his head testily at me, and I wondered, as I had wondered often before, how much he really understood of what I said. I sidled away in case he had a reprimanding rap for me, but he only tilted his head thoughtfully. I returned, crossed my arms and waited for whatever wheels turned in his head to grind out a decision. He seemed to have finally made up his mind, because he abruptly straightened, turned swiftly on his heel, long banded locks rising and falling behind him as he did so, and strode to the kitchen's back door. He paused there as if remembering something, then walked back to where I still stood. His hand reached for my face and his thumb brushed the mark on my cheek.
"I'll see you later," Ana's voice told me. I smiled, touched that he had thought to reassure me that he would return. But I had already known he would.
"Bye," I said, uncrossing my arms to reach up and touch his forearm. I smiled again, encouragingly, to show that I had understood. He looked down at me, growling softly, then dropped his arm to his side, and turned and walked out. From the kitchen window, I watched as he started down the trail in the general direction of the forest in which we had met again. A few seconds later, the familiar shimmer enveloped him and I could see him no longer. Moving to the fridge he had left open, I grabbed some eggs and leftover pancake mix, and began to prepare my own breakfast. Forty-five minutes later I had eaten, cleared away the dishes and showered.
I was sitting at the kitchen table eating from a bowl of potato chips and flipping idly through the channels on my tiny kitchen TV, when Scar walked in as if he had never left. I glanced up in surprise; I had not even heard the door open. He had obviously satiated his appetite elsewhere, but I could see no evidence that he had been hunting, and I had no idea how he had done so without the weapons he had left behind somewhere. Then I caught myself. What was I thinking? Weapons be damned. Scar was deathon two large, muscular legs. I chuckled wryly and Scar chittered at me curiously. I looked up at him, feeling suddenly sorry for us both, and a stabbing regret for everything that apparently would forever remain unshared between us.
As this thought was going through my mind, Scar moved closer. I didn't think anything of it until he reached down, curled his fingers around a few locks of my hair, and unceremoniously yanked them. Hard. Again.
"God---damnit!" I sputtered, nearly dropping the remote in my bowl, and pushed my chair back hurriedly. He rumbled loudly in amusement and my mouth curved up into a slight smile.
Scar rumbled again, still amused, but after a brief interval, fell silent and cocked his head, seeming for all the world as if he had something heavy on his mind. When presently he looked at me, a little gravely I thought, dropped one large hand on my shoulder, and with the other pointed to my chest, then his, then to the door, I felt a shiver of commingled excitement and dread. And I knew. Whatever was going to happen--wherever he was taking me--- it was nearly time.