Monster Like You

Chapter 6

Nathaniel, of course, stayed the night. He only delicately clarified whether this would create problems. I assured him that he wouldn't. And either my imagination was playing out on the basis of crazy joy, or he really exhaled with relief.

In another situation, I probably wouldn't have been able to close my eyes all night thinking that he was sleeping behind the wall, on the sofa in the living room. But that night I was too exhausted, and therefore fell into a dreamless sleep as soon as my head touched the pillow.

According to how my neck and shoulder aches in the morning, I never changed my posture during the night. And at the same time, I didn't hear the alarm clock, because I woke up from the sun rays hitting my eyes. The day before, I completely forgot to close the window.

Something else made me wake up instantly: sounds and smells. The TV was working muted in the kitchen, the washing machine was rustling in the bathroom, someone was rattling dishes in the kitchen. The aroma of fried dough with an admixture of vanilla and cinnamon floated through the apartment. All this was so abnormal that I abruptly sat up on the bed, jumped up, pulling a thick plaid shirt over my tank top with thin straps on the move.

The dishes in the kitchen rattled, of course, Nathaniel. He was frying fragrant pancakes, with one eye looking at the screen of a small TV hanging on the wall. A serious announcer with a gloomy look shared the latest news with the audience. The washing machine in the bathroom, apparently, was working on the shirt of my uninvited guest, but such a welcome guest, since he walked around my kitchen in nothing but trousers.

The latter circumstance made me stop in confusion on the threshold of the kitchen. The TV was hanging on the opposite wall, Nathaniel was standing with his back to the entrance, so I didn't get into his field of vision. This allowed for a few seconds to shamelessly spy on him.

A half-naked Nathaniel Bond was cooking breakfast in my kitchen. It was like a dream, I also saw such things from time to time, and for a moment it became scary. What if I'm really dreaming? In a second, I'll wake up and realize that everything remains the same, that he, as before, is not alive...

The thought brought a huge lump to my throat. My eyes stung, I hugged myself by the shoulders and leaned against the door jamb, trying not to make any noise, not even to move once again. In order not to accidentally wake up and fully enjoy the moment. Remember it in great detail.

Either I gave myself away somehow, or Nathaniel felt my gaze behind his back, but he suddenly turned around. An embarrassed smile appeared on his still unshaven face.

"Good morning. You're finally awake. I didn't know which was better: wake you up or let you sleep. I decided to cook breakfast for now. Do you like pancakes?"

"I like," I did not deny, smiling back and beginning to believe that I was not dreaming. There are no such realistic dreams. "I didn't know you could cook them. That you even know how to cook."

Nathaniel just grunted, quickly removing a ready-made batch of small, but very plump and ruddy pancakes from the pan.

"I'm an old bachelor," he explained, putting the pan back on the stove and carefully pouring new portions of dough with a spoon. "I had to learn. Besides, I have two higher educations and an academic degree. I am able to measure out the dry mixture, dilute it with water and fry according to the instructions on the package that is in your closet."

Nathaniel picked up a plate of ready-made pancakes and put it on the table. At the same time, he turned his other side to me, and my gaze caught on a bizarre tattoo on his shoulder. I caught a glimpse of her and made out the tangle of lines poorly, confidently seeing only crossed daggers. Such tattoos are usually stuffed in the army, Nathaniel probably also has it from those times.