Dancing With The Devil

Chapter 37

I didn't know how I was supposed to feel when I was left alone in Alistair's clinical room. I could picture him laughing and lazily tossing himself on the made bed before encouraging me to join him. He would scoff at me if I told him I didn't want to invade his privacy. We had been such a massive part of each other's lives for months that it almost felt foolish standing bleakly in his bedroom, acting like it was a museum more than a living space.

But I knew that he had left me with his parents in hopes that I would be comfortable and the reality of the situation was that my body was exhausted and I had no clean clothes to speak of since we packed up so brashly. He would look at the situation reasonably and understand why I had made my choices. It didn't make me less anxious when I pulled open his closet doors and I didn't feel like less of a vandal, but it was bore out of necessity. I'm sure he would rather I poke through his closet than sleep in his bed wearing gross clothes that had been through an airport, on an airplane, and then outside in the brutal cold.

I found a soft tee-shirt and sweat pants, deciding that they would have to do, but was slightly comforted by the idea that something of Alistair's was with me.

Double checking that the door was locked and shut I stripped out of the grubby clothes and slid into the softer fabrics. I smiled to myself when I saw an emblem for a rugby team on the shirt and a similar badge on the sweatpants though it was for snowboarding.

I wandered out to the laundry room I had spotted earlier and put everything in the washing machine before ambling back to the room. I was thankful that I hadn't been spotted frolicking around without a bra on while wearing Alistair's clothes. His family seemed to be very understanding but that would be too awkward for me to handle.

As I rumpled up the bed I wondered what Alistair had been like as a child. I could easily recall the way he commanded the crime scene that my house had become, the way he wasn't fazed in the slightest when I questioned his authority. And through our relationship- which evolved considerably over time- he never really seemed to be awkward or insecure about anything. He had always been self-assured and guiding in a way that could only be natural. There was always a wild atmosphere of confidence that swirled around his person. So picturing him as a child or a gangly teen was a struggle.

Once I had snuggled myself under the sheets I felt a little less like a parasite and more comfortable in the space. When I considered being on the other side of the situation, that I would have to leave Alistair after such a draining flight, I would want him to be warm, content, and have a belly full of food. I would want him to rest soundly in my house until I could be with him again.

But now that I was alone and my world felt a little more stable I began to think about something I had been avoiding. Now that we were home, now that we weren't fully reliant on each other, what would happen to us? Was there even an 'us'?

There was no denying my feelings and I wasn't ludicrous enough to convince myself otherwise.

Alistair had been the very person I so desperately needed in Europe. He had been a leader and a protector when I had no one else. But it was so much more than that. He knew most of the darkest secrets that had complied over my life. He knew that I had done what was required to survive a terrible situation and never berated me for it. But he also never looked at me like I was a victim. He never treated me like some skittish creature that couldn't overcome trauma. He treated me the way I needed, like someone who had rebuilt their life for the better, almost like I had been reborn.

On top of that he made me laugh when I felt like all I could was cry. He knew how to ease away the violent nightmares and tolerated the cheesy movies that were required to chase away the uneasy feelings. He was serious and strong, a vibrant self-starter for his age and deeply accomplished. But I had seen him be a little goofy, laugh a little too loud. I had seen the sides of him that he rarely showed. I loved that side.