Moonrise | Paul Lahote

16

When Jenna woke up the next morning, it was to a warm body settling next to her. Its weight caused the bed to dip, and she rolled back, right into a pair of waiting arms.

She hummed contentedly, snuggling into Paul's chest. It was bare, his skin smelling of pine and wind. The scent was weirdly fresh.

Blearily, she lifted his head, a frown coming onto her face. "Did you leave?"

"I had to patrol." Paul's fingers touched her head, threading through her hair. "You should go back to sleep."

"What time is it?" she asked through a yawn.

"Almost twelve."

"Damn."

"Don't worry, it's the weekend. And you needed your rest," he added cheekily.

A flush spread under Jenna's tan skin, but she was grinning as she swatted him. "Thanks to you."

"Mhm."

He sounded proud, which made her burst out laughing. Shaking her head, she swung her legs off the bed, only for him to tighten his grip around her waist. "Where are you going?"

"To the bathroom."

"Aw," he pouted.

She poked his side. "What do you mean, aw? Are you being clingy now?"

"I can't help it when you look like this."

"I'm a mess, Paul."

"You're beautiful."

She couldn't help but laugh again. "I love you, babe, but we need to work on your honesty."

Only the first part of the sentence registered in his mind. He smiled, so bright Jenna could practically feel the beams of sunlight on her face, and whispered, "I love you too."

Those words almost made her stay. But faced with the threat of peeing her pants, she decided to pull away, heart panging at the mournful whine that emitted from him. After promising to be back, she hurried to the bathroom, doing her business and freshening up. When she left, though, he was gone, the sounds of him shuffling around the house drifting through the open doorway.

She quickly searched for her pants (which had been miraculously removed last night), pulling them on along with one of Paul's massive hoodies before tromping downstairs. The air smelled heavily, and she went to comment on it when a hand covered her mouth.

"Whisper, ok?" Paul said softly, gesturing at the closed door a few feet away. "My mom's sleeping."

Jenna nodded somberly. Paul released her and she tiptoed over to the cabinet, grabbing some utensils and plates for him to load on the pieces of French toast he'd whipped up. Noticing that it was sunny outside for the first time in forever, Jenna pointed at the door, mouthing, "Outside?"

Paul gave her a thumbs-up. They carried their food out and sat on the grass in the backyard, watching different birds attempt to perch on the neighbor's bird feeder.

"That one's pretty," Paul noted, swallowing a mouthful of eggs. "The red is so shiny."

"How can you see that? It's so far away," Jenna complained. Neighbor had been a bit of an overstatement: the house was perched halfway up the hill that they sat at the base of.

"Wolf vision," he grinned, before frowning. "Hey, a squirrel's trying to get in it."

"Really?" Jenna squinted, just barely able to make out a small brown blur clawing its way up the perch. "That's not good."

"We should scare it off. Do you have something I can throw?"

"Uh, no? Paul, you are not throwing something at it."