Under the Darkest Skies

Chapter 15

When Seth didn't bring up anything about his werewolf status or his options with dealing with it for a day or two, Becky wasn't too worried. She figured he was taking time to think about it, to consider all his options and their pros and cons. It was what she would have done—though, she had to admit, she would have done so alongside a healthy dose of rambling to friends, hoping they could find some nugget of logic in her chatter. When another two days went by without any mention, she almost wondered if she was the one with werewolf blood, because her shoulders kept clenching up as if her bones and muscles were unwinding and preparing to weave her into a new shape. She still didn't push the matter, because she knew it was Seth's business. The last year or so had thrown so much at him, and she had been a big part of that. So many people would have called her liar or broken off all ties with her, so she had to give him credit for how well he was taking things.

After a week passed without so much a whisper of werewolves—or banshees or witches for that matter, despite Liv inviting them both to a sigil sampling party—Becky was just about bursting at the seams. "Are you mad at me?" she finally blurted out, nearly spilling her coffee all over the bed. The hotel's dining area was filled with fans, so most of the wrestlers had opted for room service so they could have a quieter start to their day.

Seth was still bleary-eyed and he hadn't yet pulled his hair back, so when he turned to look at Becky, all she could see was his nose and one of his eyes. "What?"

Becky reached over and smoothed his hair back, grabbing his hair elastic from the bedside table and coaxing his mussed curls into a bun. "Are you mad at me?" As she repeated it, even she had to admit it sounded silly. If he were truly upset with her, he would have rented a separate room, but they were spending just as much time together as ever. "You just... we haven't... you know...." Becky hugged his arm and rested her head on his shoulder. "We haven't talked about... things," she finished at last, running her fingers along his wrist. "Not that you have to talk about them with me. You can talk to Finn or Liv or get in touch with Sora or—"

Seth huffed out a long breath before wrapping an arm around her shoulders and kissing her. "No, I'm not mad at you. Or upset or anything like that. I've just been... thinking. I talked with my brother a bit—no details or names, of course, but just... about the magnitude, you know?"

"Oh. I'm... I'm glad. I hope it helped." Becky swallowed roughly and reached for her coffee, but Seth put his hand in the way. "What?"

"Just hold on a minute." Seth moved their breakfast tray safely off to the side before easing off the bed and reaching for Becky's hand. "Come here."

"But... the world outside the blankets is a cold and scary place." She was only wearing one of his old band t-shirts, but she let him lead her over to their suite's couch. The coffee table had been mostly bare the night before, as far as she remembered, except for perhaps a take-out cup of coffee or two, but now there were papers strewn across the surface: some printed out, some in Seth's now-familiar scrawl, others in writing that felt like she should recognize it but didn't. "What's all this?"

"Me thinking about it," Seth explained. "Brainstorming, I guess. Piecing things together." Blushing a bit, he added, "I even tried some pros and cons lists, but those got repetitive pretty quick...."

"But... but when?" Becky knew she would have noticed all the papers if they had been out last night. "We went for coffee and came back here and you called Roman and then we fooled around for a bit and went to sleep...."

Seth pulled her over to the couch and urged her to sit, kissing her head as he sat beside her. "You looked like you were having a good sleep. I didn't want to wake you."

The sentiment was sweet and she appreciated it, but Becky still wasn't sure how he had managed not to wake her up. He would have needed a light of some kind to be able to read all his papers, and he would have had to open up his bag to get all his notes. "But I'm usually sleeping all over top of you," she replied. That was the most confusing part. How had she not felt him move or missed his warmth?