Packages - GT

19

She cried for a good ten minutes, her face red by the time she stopped. The young woman wiped her eyes a few times and looked around at the hands holding her, leaning into their warmth.

"Feel better?" Christian asked gently, giving her a sorrowful smile. She gave a little nod and he could see the slight droop of her body, clearly tired. "How about you lay down for a while, get some rest? This has been a lot, all at once." She gave another nod and he carefully stood, carrying her back to the bedroom.

The blond lowered her down to one of his pillows, watching her sink into it with her tiny weight. Pulling up the blanket halfway over the pillow he turned out the light, turning to leave.

"W-wait--!"

"What is it, Mariana?" He asked gently, giving her a little smile. "I'm not going far. I still have things to do, but I promise not leave. I'll just be in the other room, okay?"

She gave a hesitant nod and pulled her arm back to herself, curling up again. "Get some sleep," he told her, leaving the room.

---

A few hours had passed and Christian was no closer to answers than before. He'd found one person who had seen her at the bar, but no one had seen her leaving. He didn't like it, his options thinning. While this could easily be a simple kidnapping, the fact she had been mailed to him at a shrunken size made it clear there was something he was missing. No way he could talk to Zig again...

"Why me?" He asked the air, leaning back in his kitchen chair, balancing on the hind two legs. He didn't know Mariana before this--never seen her in his life. There had to be something more he had overlooked... "The box--!"

He darted up from his chair in a rush, just barely catching it before it clattered to the floor. Moving quick but quietly he snuck into the bedroom, glancing the sleeping girl before searching out the box. His fingers brushed it on the floor at the foot of his bed, the man grabbing it and backing out to the table again.

Green eyes poured over the outside of the box, brows knit with frustration and focus. Something inside caught his gaze and he paused, carefully opening up the box a bit more.

Writing.

He tore the seams of the cardboard, opening it up flat to expose the full inside of the container, his shoulders tense. That wasn't English. A foreign swear spilled from his lips in a nervous whisper.

"This is... from home."