The Coming | The House of Voices #2

Twenty Nine - Noticing

Noticing

Parish:

October’s voice filtered into his dreamless sleep, soft and filled with both concern and attitude. “Get your ass out of bed,” she said.

Was she talking to him? Parish forced his eyes open and blinked at the startling light before realizing that October wasn’t even in the room. Confused and sleepy, he sat up in bed and that’s when he’d noticed her sitting by the bedroom window, her chin on her knees and a phone pressed to her ear.

Oblivious to the fact that he was still awake, she continued speaking into the phone. “…and do what you do best – give them hell. Tease Sid, yell at Bethany if she’s being a bitch, call Larkson a cranky old grandma to her face again. Whatever you need to do to start feeling like you’re living. Because it’s not going to feel like you’re living life until you actually put some effort into it, sister.”

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that she was talking to Kara. She was the only one Parish could think of who would do all the things that October mentioned.

Parish watched in silent amusement as October gave her friend a pep talk, her head bobbing passionately along with her words. The sunlight filtering into the room through the window gave her a beautiful sort of glow. Parish found himself unable to look away from the golden shine to her usually dark hair.

He remembered the way he’d found her sleeping by his side earlier, her hair spilling over his fingers and, for reasons he couldn’t understand, he wanted to walk over to her and tuck that one stray lock of hair behind her ears.

Wrapping his fingers around the sheet that covered his legs, he forced himself to stay put. He also appreciated the fact that his right leg was too sore and stiff for him to even consider acting on his impulses.

Suddenly, she giggled. A soft, content sound.  “Of course I am,” she said, nodding her head slightly. There was a pause and when she spoke next, her words were sincere. “I miss you too. I promise I’ll call more often. When all this is over, we’ll go shopping for art supplies.”

Another pause.

“Yeah. Tell Sid I love him, okay? I’ll try and call him later.”

A few seconds later, she pulled the phone away from her ear and tapped at the screen.  She looked at the phone for a moment, sighed and then slid off the chair. She stretched her arms out on either side of her and tried to stretch her neck, but let out a soft groan of pain and immediately touched her hands to the sore spot.

After rubbing the area for a while, she turned around and finally noticed that Parish was awake.

“How long was I out?” Parish asked, lifting a hand to his hair and ruffling it, just like he did every morning when he woke up.

Hazel eyes fixed on him, she grinned about something. “Almost a day. I was just about to wake you.”

“A day?” he repeated, yawning. “Is that why my leg feels like someone’s been sitting on it for the past twelve hours?”

She looked like she wanted to shake her head at him, and Parish smiled. “No,” she answered. “That’s the salve, I think. You’re not in pain, are you?” Her gaze flicked down to his legs, concerned.

He shook his head. “Nope.”

She looked visibly relieved, which made Parish smile internally. “Then that probably means the bones are all healed.”

Her look on controlled relief made Parish realize that, to look that relieved, she must have been worrying a lot. Which could only mean that the damage to his leg must have been bad. “How bad was it?” he asked.

Worry flashed across her face again when she answered.  “Pretty bad,” she said and, after a pause she perked up. “Go shower and come downstairs to get something to eat.” She waved Ace’s phone at him. “I need to put this to charge.”

Parish forced his leg to cooperate and slipped out of bed. “Eat what?” he asked, tossing the sheet onto the bed and raising his arms above his head to stretch his muscles. He’d been sleeping in the same position for almost a day and his entire body felt wound up.

He noticed October’s gaze travel down his body, from the top of his head and down his torso. Her eyes paused somewhere around his stomach area and with a quick glance down, Parish realized that his shirt had ridden up, allowing her to see some of his abdomen. Not feeling shy like he normally would have if another girl had been taking him in the way October was, Parish found himself feeling strangely… pleased by the attention.

October had never been disinterested in him, but neither had she shown any clear indicators that she liked him as more than someone she’d run away from a mental institution with and grown to care about. Sure, she looked after him and stayed by his side and held his hand a lot, but Parish wasn’t sure that he could really read too much into those. Their situation was a unique one.

Ever since that night in the abandoned shop where they’d almost kissed, Parish found himself watching October a little closer than usual. Being affected by her laughter a little more than he should and, more often, wanting to touch her… He’d even gotten extremely jealous when he thought that there might have been something going on between October and Darren.

He still had no proof that there was nothing between them, but something in his gut told him that he’d completely overreacted. Especially since he distinctly remembered her leaning in towards him, just before Brent had stepped on that cat’s tail the other night.

In front of him, October blinked and tore her gaze away from him, turning to address the door instead. “Usually,” she said, flashing him a teasing look, “people eat breakfast in the morning.”

Parish rolled his eyes. “Smartass,” he said. “You know what I meant.”

“Take a shower and come downstairs, Stupid. I’ll have pancakes ready.” She said, laughing as she left the room.

Parish grabbed a set of fresh clothes and shuffled into the room’s adjoining bathroom. Twenty minutes later, he stepped out wondering why on earth he smelled like Christmas cookies. He ran a hand through his hair as he bounded down the stairs, his leg feeling much better after the warm water shower.

In the kitchen, he found October sitting at the table, playing with Tubman in her lap. She was bent over the little cat, stroking its fur with one gentle finger and allowing it to swat her with its paw whenever she stopped. She looked up when he entered the kitchen and smiled, quickly returning her attention to the cat because it had swatted her finger again.

Parish saw a plate of pancakes waiting for him in the seat beside October’s and sat down enthusiastically. “Nice! Do we have any syrup?” he asked, picking up a fork and knife.

Without looking up, October jerked her head towards a bottle of maple syrup standing right beside the flower vase that sat in the center of the table. Grinning, he plucked the bottle and squeezed some of its contents onto the warm pancakes. Setting it back on the table, Parish looked at the girl beside him.

“Looks like you two are having fun,” he said to her.

She lifted her head slightly and peered at him through a section of hair that had gotten un-tucked from behind her ear. “We are,” she said, lips quirking into a shy smile.

Parish turned his attention to his food, gripping his knife tightly as he tried, once again, to resist the urge to tuck her hair behind her ears.