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Song suggestion: Work Song, Hozier.
Chapter Twenty Eight: Heated Distance.
"Sam." I managed to choke out, before running up to him and launching myself into his arms. Sam threw his arms around me in response, clutching me tightly. I didn't realise I was sobbing with relief until he began to stroke my hair soothingly down my back, as he often did when we were younger, and I could feel him shuddering against me.
"I'm home Bells." He murmured into my hair and I felt him move the blanket off me and wrap it around himself. That was when I noticed the state he was in. Dirty, hot, and naked. Stepping back awkwardly, I looked away and swiped away my tears, while he wrapped the blanket like he would a bath towel around his waist.
"Sam?" Ignoring my embarrassed cheeks, I regained my composure, "What are you doing naked?"
"You don't even want to know Bells." He rubbed his hands restlessly over his muddy cheeks. Sympathy filled my heart and I hugged him close again. He'd been lost for weeks in the mud and the cold rain, alone and desperately searching for home. Tears filled my eyes again with relief.
"Well, you need a shower, and I'll get you some food, and we can talk all about this once you're dressed." I sniffled and pulled away, "I'm glad you're back."
"I know; me too." He nodded and jogged off upstairs for a well-deserved shower.
Suddenly alone again, I didn't know what to do with myself. I didn't want to breakdown and cry, crying was for sadness, and I was the farthest emotion from sadness now. I was elated and relieved and overwhelmed about how lucky I was to have my brother back. In order to distract myself from my shaken emotional state, I began raiding our cupboards for food. Pulling out potatoes, carrots, pieces of steak, apples, and anything else I could think to use in the large banquet meal I would create while Sam washed off weeks of filth.
As I peeled the vegetables and set the steaks in boiling water to defrost, I realised I was making all this food on the assumption Sam was starved, yet he hadn't appeared to have lost weight. If anything, his physique appeared more muscular and taller than I remembered. Sam had always been tall, like most of the Native boys at our high school, and broadly set. As he'd gone through puberty, he'd only become more muscular and gangly. Yet, now, he was so large and dominating in size, he could have been a man ten years his senior, easily. Even living off the land for three weeks had not changed him physically. Frowning at this, I continued making our meal, reasoning Sam was always hungry no matter what anyway, and I doubted his time missing had changed that.
It was a while later that Sam came back down, fluffing his damp hair. With the mud and leaves rinsed from his body, I could see just how toned and muscular he was. He was far taller than six foot with a body rippled with muscles. I couldn't see a starving bone protruding from his skin at all. And I could see a lot of skin considering he had only a pair of shorts and a t-shirt on, despite the draught chilling the open room.
"Are you not cold?" I tried to make a joke of it while tugging my long sleeves over my knuckles.
"No." He shook his head and shrugged, coming to lean on the counter.
"Sam, its freezing." Setting a pan to simmer, I stalked over to him, "How are you not cold? Are you sick?"
"I'm fine Bella." Sam ducked away and held his hands up, avoiding my touch.
"Sam?" Furrowing my brows, I crossed my arms. Suddenly Sam seemed harsher, defensive. He was shutting me out and I didn't know what for. We had always told each other everything, I didn't understand. If he had a fever, was he frightened of me catching it? My crossed arms squeezed my waist anxiously. I'd only just got Sam back; I didn't want him to be sick. Sam never got sick.
"I'm fine Bells." He repeated and nodded to the pots bubbling on the stove top, "What're making?"
"I thought you'd be hungry." Trying to recover from my internally hurting emotions, I smiled uncertainly.
"Starving." Smiling back, he moved to help.
As we stood beside each other, I could feel the heat radiating from his body. Creating a warm barrier between us, as he avoided coming too near. Suddenly he didn't want me to be too close, opposed to how we usually teasingly bumped into each other when we used to make dinner together. It made my eyes dampen at the distance, not only physically, but how he was pushing me away. I could feel him holding back from me, as if this fever was a reason to shut me off. I understood he probably wasn't feeling very human, who would after living in the forest for weeks? But he seemed so far away from me emotionally, after we'd been each other's emotional rock for most of our lives, and my heart ached at the notion.
Sam was quick to finish the cooking and serve it up, piling food high on his plate, while I only prepared a nibbling plate for myself. When we sat at the table, he heartily ate, barely looking my way as he ploughed his way through dinner. I picked at my food until his plate was empty and he tapped his fork on the side of his plate.
"There are leftovers in the refrigerator if you want to warm them; Sue's kept me in plenty of supply of meals." I offered quietly and watched him raid the refrigerator. He pulled out every Tupperware box of leftovers and had heated and served himself in quick succession. The way he was acting made me wonder what he'd been through in the past few weeks, how he'd made it home, why he'd run off in the first place? My mind buzzed as he sat back in satisfaction, finally.
"That was great Bells, even for three in the morning cooking." Sam smiled and I twitched my lips in response, my mind connecting to my mouth with hundreds of questions, but only one that needed to be asked first.
"What happened Sam?"