Inhumane

012

PAIGE

I slept hard my first night back indoors. The wolf let me have his bed; it was a large, comfortable thing. The duvet was thick and white, cotton sheets a deep navy blue. There were four pillows, it looked like it hadn't been used in quite a while. I wondered how many females he had welcomed into it. He seemed like he would be a tender lover. I pushed the thought from my head.

The wolf stood at my back, big arms folded over his broad chest. I hadn't known what to say to his last words to me on the couch, so I just remained silent. The way his deep voice had urged I chose you replayed over and over in my mind. It was bothering me, a lot. More than I was willing to admit.

"I won't bother you, don't run. I'll find you." A consistent reminder.

It seemed like a heavy promise. I didn't think I had the strength to run anyways.

He cracked the door shut behind him, footsteps leading away and back to the living room where I heard him clean up the dishes before settling on the couch. The sensitivity of my new hearing was still something I was getting used to, just like the heightened sense of smell. Just a few more things that added stress to my shoulders.

I peeled back the covers and crawled beneath. It was cozy and warm, which I hadn't felt in a long time. Everything smelled of him, which I also hated to admit, was a great smell. It was naturally appealing to my senses. Pine and rainwater begged my eyes to close and nostrils to take in more. I buried my nose in the sheets.

It took a lot not to cry, sometimes. That was something I never let myself do. Frustration, anger, sadness, and turmoil waged war inside of me. This body, this life was making me insane. I wanted out of it. I wanted to be done.

But for the time being, I let my body slump, and I fell into a dreamless sleep.

- - -

I awoke to the smell of bacon and coffee. It was a very alluring scent. Sleeping in his bed gave me the most rest I had ever gotten in my life. I felt like I could think again, less tired and starved, more like a girl. A struggling, depressed, angry girl... But a girl nonetheless.

There wasn't a want to get up at first. Exhaustion still hung from my bones, adding extra weight, pressing me back into the mattress. I closed my eyes knowing I wouldn't fall back to sleep. It felt like too much energy to breathe or think, so I just laid silently, my mind shut off. Empty. I stayed that way for a while, smelling the bacon tangle with the scent of the wolf, and telling my head to shut off and enjoy the silence. Eventually, I couldn't bear that emptiness and sat up. Gingerly, I carried my legs over the edge of the bed, stretched out my neck and back and walked to the kitchen. I noticed how silent I could be now, but that didn't stop the realization that the way his body tensed showed he knew I was there without looking.

The wolf stood at the stove, frying bacon and eggs in a pan. I was sort of shocked to see such a mundane looking thing from such a wild being that I had grown to hate. My stomach rolled, whether in disgust or hunger I wasn't sure.

He thought it was hunger, peering over his shoulder, he asked "Hungry?"

I shrugged. The wolf looked sort of beautiful in the soft morning light that pressed in from the outside. It was gray and gloomy, old snow lingering on the ground and every shadowed crevice. He was a stark contrast to the outdoors with his deep tan and black hair with yellow eyes.

"Did you sleep alright?" There was genuine care and interest in his voice as if sugar-coated each syllable. I didn't think men- or wolves- were capable of such emotion.

"Well enough," I responded. I wasn't sure the last time someone had asked me such a mundane question. My father never had, that was for sure. Tenderness and care were not qualities that man possessed.