FOLK

Folk Part 5

Chapter 5

"Wanda is that you?" grandma's voice lightly calls through the house.

Thorin turns to me and raises an eyebrow, amusement paints the smirk that is centre on his flawless face. I release a sigh, possibly fuelled by embarrassment or annoyance.

"yeah I'm just wiping my shoes they're a bit muddy." I answer praying that's she won't come out here and check on me. hearing a small huff from inside the house if answer enough, I'm safe for now. Before Thorin can remind me, I jump off the deck, crouching down, to sprinkle the glowing powder around the outside of the house. As soon as it leaves my hand it turns a vibrant green, luminescent glowing like a glow worm, stark against the wet grass. Slowly I make my way around the property, sprinkling as little as possible, not wasting the residue. When I'm done, I tie the bag up and make my way to Thorin who is watching me with what I can only describe as bitch face.

Staying as quiet as possible I motion with my hand for him to get up, supporting him once again, I am warmed with the heat that radiates off of him. Slowly we make our way up the stairs, thankful that my mother isn't woken in the process. The narrow staircase poses an issue but Thorin just pulls me closer, so we can both fit. A shiver runs thorough me as his hands brush over my exposed stomach, and I cringe at the thoughts I am having. I shake them off as we reach the second landing which is occupied by my room and a bathroom that hasn't worked for as long as I can remember. I gesture with my pointy finger to the first room; he sees the basin and enters alone as I hastily run to my room.

The walls a navy blue with whit trim is still quiet fashionable and probably the only thing I like about my room. The bed sits in the middle of the room, wrapped in coloured rugs of pink and yellow, barely big enough for the two of us that we will have to share. I look to the floor, or maybe we could call it a carpet since its 80% clothes. I sweep them up in my arms and shove them in the empty toy box that sits at the base of my bed on top of the ugliest rug I have ever seen.

Jesus Christ, who let me design this room.

Scooping what seems like 100's of empty water bottles into a bin and jar of Nutella which I had been slowly eating for the past week. I place both my hands on my hips and survey the room. Not bad considering the state it was previously in. Before I try to do more, the door squeaks open and Thorin enters, looking taller in my tiny room. Around his thigh is no longer the bottom half of my shirt but some gauze that must have been in the bathroom. His hair is suddenly without blood and his clothes look almost brand new. He ignores my gaze and sits on the edge of the bed, beginning to remove his shoes and sword.

I decide to follow, sitting on the other side, removing my coat and rain boots both covered in blood and mud, I dump them on the floor, the mess that I just cleaned beginning again. it's a vicious cycle, I tell myself. Pulling the blankets back I hop under, scooping them back on top of me, hoping they warm my frozen body.

Thorin, removes his shirt, revealing the most perfect body I have ever seen. Lean muscles coat is body, his tanned skin if flawed with small scars that run along his back and front. His left arm darker than the rest of him, covered in a tattoo that moves when I look at it, swirling and gliding along his arm. Without realising it, I open my mouth, "what does it feel like?" I ask motioning to the tattoo that I couldn't help by spy.

He relaxes into the bed, looking at the same spot I am, "like that of a flowing river, trickling over me at all times."

Transfixed on its movements I almost forgot the small space between us. I flush scarlet at the thought, a small smile creeps upon his face. despite the tiredness overwhelming me I don't think I will be able to sleep, afraid that this is just a dream. Curiosity, becomes overbearing and I can't help but ask, "what are you?" I already know the answer of course but I need to hear him say it, to separate fantasy and reality.

He lets out a small breath, different to earlier, all anger is gone from his system, "I am I high fey, a knight in the unseelie court." He states, but not with his usual authority instead shame and fear of how I will react.

Okay well, WHAT THE FUCK! How is this even a thing. I stare at him, my eyes wider than a deer caught in the headlights, I almost regret asking. I am definitely not sleeping tonight.

"would you like me to tell you about it?" I nod, answering his question.

He begins to speak of his time in the gentry and the deeds he is asked to do, what it is like living as a fey and what the court is apart of is like. I listen to most of it, keeping my face still, trying to be polite and not scared out of my skin. As he talks, I start to drift off, staring at his full lips as they move, as if in slow motion I am transfixed. He notices me looking and a smile meets the corner of his mouth, "sleep Wanda" a thick wave washes over me, my eyelids suddenly heavy and his whispers caress me to a dreamless sleep.

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again, i do not proof read these, i just post when i'm finished so apologises