Night Alpha

23 - Paint Pen

Thank you so much for 20K :)

I never thought so many people would read my story when I started it, I don't think I can express how much it means to me to read your kind comments and messages, to see your votes on each chapter. From everything I can give, thank you.

-

I decide to be his friend as I push my fingers in his hair, decide to be on his team when I softly pat his back. His skin does't burn mine this time, I think that maybe for once I'm the warmer one when I curl to hug him, hand reaching to bury his face in my neck, his body under me. I hope he feels affection and not pity. Hope he doesn't feel shame. I don't pity him because I shouldn't, empathize because I can.

When his wheezes quiet down to small and silent breaths that I barely feel on my skin, I first think that he might have fallen asleep. He rises to his knees with his head low, wipes runaway tears with the back of his strong hands. He refuses to look at me, so I wipe the leftovers of my own tears. Milo moves his hands to undo my shoes, thick fingers around the laces. I remember my brother's old movies, the ones with monsters simply born so. I look at Milo, born too tall, too strong, too heavy.

I think of the skin under his, the one that moves like swirls of darkness, that seems to break out when he changes. He gently removes my shoes and moves them under the bed. The skin that feels too smooth to the touch, talons too thick and fangs too sharp. I wonder why he was born, what could have created him. How could a wolf not be pack yet stay among them? Milo stays on the floor bellow as he removes his own shoes, sheds his jacket.

I still hear a few sniffles from him when he moves to the closet, so I follow him. Scarf in one hand and my own jacket in the other. His shoulders are slumped over, it doesn't take away from his intimidating frame. He pushes a hand behind him, as if he knew I was right behind, so I hand him my clothes. When his hand comes back, I wonder what item for. So I decide to be on his side and put my empty hand on his.

All that crying must have made him dizzy because he firsts pulls my hand to him, as if to put another item back before he flinches. One of his sniffles turns to a cough then to a strangle when he turns his face to our joined hands and finally to me. Lips slightly ajar and blown eyelids. His eyes are still reddish but Milo's cheeks light up like fire and he turns his face back to our hands. I feel his thumb softly tapping the back of my hand, his index gently stroking the inside of wrist.

I try to let him, try to keep a cool face but I can't evade the warmth that creates in my stomach, can't escape the effects his skin has on my heartbeat. He turns our hands and traces the lines of my palm, sniffles when he softly squeezes each knuckle. I fight against the fear, decide to picture him leaning against a tree, breeze lifting his hair instead of him on his knees with drenched cheeks. I remember his soft smile, let myself smile too.

He must have turn his head when I was looking at our hands because when I look back up, his eyes are on me. His fingers gently tug my hand while his other hand slowly comes up to my face. It's slow and precise, as if he was afraid but there's something akin to curiousness in eyes, akin to awe on his face. His index gently traces my lower lip, just bellow and it moves with my lifted smile. I try not to move when he shows such seriousness.

I move my face away from his scorching fingertip that ignites something I don't want to face and Milo's hand stays in the air. His fingers press my wrist's skin just the lightest bit when he finally takes a look at me and not just my lips. He lets go and steps back with a strangled noise, like a child caught doing something bad. His cheeks redden once more and he looks away, at the window, at the ceiling and the closet while I stand there.

« Are you okay? » I mean to ask gently, about his pack more than the interaction we just had, but I'm curious anyhow. He jumps a bit at my voice, taking our shoes back to the right place. He refuses to meet my eyes again, opts for a few nods.