8 - Promise
"I'm sorry man, I didn't know where else to go." Monroe started as he hastily made his way inside the bakery. Harry yawned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and locked the door behind them even as his sort-of-friend rambled on. "They know about Nick and about the shop, so I figured my house wouldn't be the best choice either and I had to take her somewhere safe."
Harry looked between the agitated man – face switching between wolf and human – and Rosalee, who seemed rather shook up. "It's fine." He said simply, calmly.
For a moment he regarded the shop's windows and the cold, dark night behind them.
And shook his head with a resigned sigh. "Come on, then."
The bakery was one thing, but it was an uncomfortable, revealing, yet oddly warm feeling to bring them to his apartment, his private space – somewhat like sunbathing naked on a low, sunny roof.
Thankfully neither of his midnight guests remarked upon the lack of photographs and knickknacks. They didn't mention that the only thing that made his apartment look like a home were the candles and the collection of pillows and plaids the colour of autumn leaves.
Besides those, his rooms were still bare – no pictures on the walls, no books on the shelves – even a full year after his arrival here.
Rosalee was too polite to mention any of this and Monroe… Monroe still had far too much wolf in his face to notice such trivialities - his eyes were still darting around, looking for some hidden threat.
"Monroe." The wizard said firmly, not just drawing, but demanding the man's attention.
When he could see that the wolf-man was fully focussed on him he gave a soft, reassuring smile – one that felt almost foreign because he hadn't used it since coming to this world, since parting from his family of friends. Still, despite the disuse, his smile was true. As were the words that accompanied it.
"No harm will come to you in my home. Whoever, whatever it is that hunts you – it cannot find you here."
The silence between them was filled with questions that would not be asked, not now, and answers that might never be spoken out loud.
But it was also filled with truth. And trust.
And more warding magic than this world had ever seen.
Because Harry was nothing if not protective of his home.
(Word Count: 400)
