The Unwanted Wendigo [ManxMan]

Chapter Thirty-two: This Means War

~Chapter Thirty-two: This Means War~

Waking up in my room in Valentin's house will likely never be something I get used to, not after all the years I spent on the run from my kind, sleeping in random, hardly-secure locations. And after almost being captured again on the beach, I was kind of expecting to wake up in an unfamiliar location, the meal and date plans I made with Felix being only part of a really good dream. However, it looks like that part might have been true.

At least, it had been have not been a dream.

Though I could probably pick up a book and lounge around in bed for a few hours, as it is two in the afternoon if the clock is to be believed and the light outside is any indication, but something about sleeping for so long usually leaves me restless upon waking, and it seems like today is no exception. So, getting up, I stretch out my arms and arch my back almost completely backwards, taking a deep breath as-

My entire body tenses, causing me to lose my balance and stumble into the side of the bed while I try to stay on my feet. Rather than straighten up right away, though, I pause, uncertain. A quick glance around my room shows nothing out of the ordinary, as I am pretty sure everything is where I left it without any obvious changes. However, despite that, something feels a little off, even if I cannot place what. Still, there is nothing in here that really jumps out at me as concerning or different, not even anything in the room's mixture of scents.

Maybe Valentin hired someone to clean my room while I was on land or something.

Though making assumptions is often a fool's mistake, with nothing else to explain away my sudden paranoia, I just dismiss it for now. If it is still bothering me the next time I return to my room, I will try to find answers, but maybe it is something on the outer edges of my senses, too. For all I know, someone released a particularly nasty fart in the hallway or something, and my nose decided it was some form of airborne toxins.

Wouldn't be the first time that's happened.

Making a face in the mirror as I pass - a face that would not have been as expressive if I had my mask - I open my door and step into the hallway, only to then be bombarded with scents that could only be coming from the kitchen. None of it smells appetizing, but it still smells good - like vanilla, sugar, and coffee. Unlike the passed gas in the hallway I was dreading from the moment I was struck by the idea, the smells coming from the kitchen are far more welcomed, and I walk a little faster with a slight spring in my step.

Smells reeealllly nice.

When I enter the living room and find Valentin sitting on the couch, though, some of my excitement disappears, as his expression is not one of delight. Instead, his brows are scrunched up, and his lips are pursed while he stares with narrowed eyes at the doorway to the kitchen. If I did not know them as well I do, I likely would have wondered if they had fought, as his expression reminds me of the mullish face a frustrated husband makes after a disagreement, but I have seen them fight before, and it always ended in a fiery but still mutual debate.

And then they go back to their room for some 'special time.'

Trying not to make a face in disgust at that thought, as it is nothing like - intentionally - walking in on a friend doing the do with his at-one-time fiance and everything like accidentally walking in on a friend's parents doing the do, I approach Valentin, who only notices me when I am standing right next to him. Flopping down on the couch, I eye him while he tries to smile at me, only for it to fall into a grimace.

What's happened to you, Mr. Fabulous?

"Did you walk into the doorframe again?" I ask seriously.