Dominance

Chapter 20: Into The Closet

She didn't know where else to go, so Sara started heading down the hallway to the only other room that was 'male shapeshifter free'; the women's bathroom. But those plans were quickly scratched when she noticed Norman slip into the janitor's closet.

Curious, and happy to take the distraction, Sara followed him.

Peeking her head in through the slight ajar of the door, she called out Norman's name.

"Sara?" His voice bounced back, surprised. "Is everything okay?"

Sara's nose scrunched as she got a strong waft of floor cleaner. As the plate on the door boldly stated, it was indeed a janitor's closet. There was barely enough room for some shelving to house the sparse cleaning chemicals and a tired mop and bucket.

Almost all the tiny floor space was occupied by someone lying on it. Sara could tell by the groaning, that it was Eric, even before her eyes had time to adjust to the tiny low-watt light bulb that duskily illuminated the room.

Eric's head was thoroughly bandaged. From what Sara could see he looked mostly human, but some of his human skin was a confusing mix of fenrin fur.

The majority of his body was covered by another infamous itchy granny-style blanket with a tacky raincoat draped atop that.

"Just escaping from an awkward conversation for a bit." Sara grimaced. Her facial expression was practically begging Norman to invite her to join him in the tiny space.

"Ah, well... It's a bit crowded, but you're welcome to hide in here with me."

"Were you fighting with Twister again?" Norman motioned her to sit on a scraggly-looking milk crate. "I don't suppose you want to talk to me about it?"

"Absolutely not." Sara smiled back and Norman chuckled in response.

Sara clicked the door shut behind her and clenched at the fabric of her oversized pants to stop them from sagging down as she sat. She decided she would have to ask Ashlee if she had a spare pair with her that would fit better.

The hard grating of the plastic dug ruthlessly into Sara's butt cheeks; likely to leave indentation marks. Meanwhile, Norman appeared to be moderately comfortable perched on his crate seat.

"It's stuffy in here." Sara noted as Norman opened up a laptop. The light it emitted from the screen instantly turned the tiny room brighter. "Why are you in here?"

Clutter seemed to ensue wherever Norman and Eric went. Also sharing the floor space was a mess of notes, an open first aid kit with scattered contents, memory sticks, and other small computer device pieces.

Norman looked like he was about to say something, but then stopped to consider his words before speaking.

"Doing my job and looking for clues. Eric is pretty unstable right now so it's best to be able to keep an eye on him in an enclosed space."

"And the best option was squishing him into a broom closet?"

Norman's lip twitched. "Yes, well. A volatile fenrin is not respected or prioritised by many. Let's just keep it at that."

"Ah," Sara responded, feeling the somber vibe in his words. "Is he going to be alright?"

Norman shook his head bitterly. Even in the poorly lit room, she could see the shadows of fatigue formed on his face. Norman had always seemed to have some kind of togetherness and rationality that Sara currently would be overjoyed to have right now. But maybe beneath those layers he was just as tired and strained emotionally as she was.

Norman pushed his hand under his shirt collar and roughly rubbed at his shoulder muscles. He then rolled his neck back and winced out a drawn-out sigh.