Of Beauty & Beast (Scomiche)

7. Strained Affections

*I feel like this is messy so I might fix this chapter later. Please excuse any mistakes.*

Later that day, Mitch opened his eyes at the sound of birds singing and happily found himself being held by the beast. He took a second to enjoy the closeness, snuggling into it's warm white fur. His magic was back to vibrating beneath his skin again as soon as he opened his eyes since he was no longer exhausted, and Mitch knew he'd have to go out into the forest to release some of the energy, or it wouldn't rest. The nature called to him more aggressively today, sensing that he was nearby but not taking advantage.

Mitch let out a soundless yawn and slowly sat up. He paused when the beast stirred in it's sleep. It grumbled and rolled it's neck from shoulder to shoulder. Mitch waited until it finally settled down before removing himself from their awkward tangle of limbs. He got off the floor and stretched out his stiff muscles. 

Mitch tip-toed his way to the rustic-style bathroom to relieve himself after. While he did so, his hazy eyes scanned over the walls that were created by a mixture of hand-selected rocks from the nearby river and sanded logs, the large drop-in tub that sat beside a small window, and the shower that he recalled Alpha Accalia designing to resemble the small waterfall at his clearing. It was spacious enough to have potted plants within the shower stall so it still felt like outdoors, and...

Well, nothing had changed and that was comforting.

His own home had been the complete opposite of this cabin–in style and size–and he'd always been grateful to have both. Though it hurt, he accepted that he now only had here to really consider home and that was better than still believing he had nothing. That is, if everyone welcomes him back. 

Mitch forces himself to ignore that negative thought.

Absentmindedly, he flushed the toilet, washed his hands, and started up the shower right after like he used to do, always one to follow a routine. He realized what he'd done a few beats later than he probably should have and stilled, watching hot water spray from multiple directions in the stall. It had felt so natural to be here again that he'd moved from muscle memory and not conscious thought. After two years though, he wondered if maybe it'd be more appropriate to ask permission to do certain things. 

Two years didn't sound long in theory, but two years could feel like ten after having been separated from someone you couldn't remember really ever being without.

Mitch bent forward again to shut the water off. He went to the sink and rummaged around in the cabinet underneath to retrieve a new toothbrush and a washcloth instead, hoping Scott still stored them there. He would brush his teeth and wash his face here, then return to Mrs. Richardson's to shower and re-dress. Simple. She was probably worried about his whereabouts anyway, and maybe Scott would be shifted back into human form by time he returned. 

Mitch slipped from the bathroom when he was done with everything and his mint-mixed scent drifted to the beast before the door even opened. Scott had—They had woken up as soon as Mitch moved from them minutes ago, but the new addition to his fragrance had the being actually rising up to sit up on it's hind legs. Scott blinked at Mitch when the boy got down onto the floor to sit Indian style across from them. 

"We should talk," Mitch said, settling his hands calmly in his lap. "Will you shift so we can?"

Ha, as if that was his choice; it didn't care if he wanted to change back or not. Mitch must have forgotten that the beast was the one animal he had no control over since it'd been so long since Scott had shifted to it. It only agreed with Scott on things once in a while. Plus, Scott was no longer sure what he was going to do when he was back to normal. He had imagined them making up and picking up where they left off, but then their time apart kept increasing and he'd learned that he and the pack had been replaced by those lowlifes. So the longer he was like this, the more time he had to choose his first words.