An Eye For An Eye

Dix-Sept

Heading to the kitchen, I covered my yawn with my hand and sat down at the breakfast bar. Deucalion was already in the process of making tea.
“Would you like a cup?” he asked.
“If you don’t mind,” I said.
“I wouldn’t have offered otherwise.”
“Thank you,” I said before standing up to make myself breakfast.

Deuc turned and stared at me. “Sit down, I’ll make you breakfast.” Deciding not to protest, I sat back down and waited for him to put a bowl of cereal in front of me, and a cup of tea.
“I don’t have milk,” I reminded him.
“I know,” he said with a proud smirk as he set the cup down in front of me. “You’re lactose intolerant.”
“You remembered that?” I asked, a smile spreading across my face. I was shocked, not many people seemed to remember it. Or they just thought it was an optional problem, as if I could turn it off.
“Yes, why wouldn’t I?”
“Most people don’t,” I said quietly.

Once I had finished eating breakfast, I rested my chin on my hand and looked at Deucalion. In the midst of my late night crisis, a thought had popped into my head.
“What are we?” I asked him.
“What?”
“Like, are we friends? Are we more than that? Is there a weird middle ground between friendship and dating because if so, I think we’re somewhere in that grey area,” I asked. He stopped eating and thought for a moment.
“You know, for once, I don’t think I have an answer to that question.”

I chuckled, I think I had made him sort of speechless.
“Well, I suppose we’re room-mates or whatever the equivalent of that is,” he said. “I’m not sure if there are any other words to describe this.”
“Right,” I said slowly. If anyone was going to know, it probably would have been Deucalion. Or Kara, but I couldn’t really ask her.
“Do we need a word for it?”
“I guess not,” I said with a shrug. It seemed we were both in agreement that this was odd.

“Oh,” I said, as I remembered Chris. “Chris agreed to the truce. He said that as long as you and your pack don’t hurt him or me, then he won’t hunt you.”
“That’s good, I thought he’d already agreed to it.”
“Well, it was more of a loose suggestion and while he seemed hesitant to properly agree, he did agree to it properly this time,” I said a little sheepishly.
“At least he’s agreed.”

I stared at him for a moment before reaching out and taking his hand.
“I really do feel like I have to thank you, even if you insist I don’t,” I said. “And I feel like I have to do something else as a thank you.”
“You really are persistent,” he said and I awkwardly laughed. I was rather persistent, slightly more than he was about how I didn’t need to thank him. “But…”
“But?” I said, prompting him to say more.
“But if you insist, dedicate the story to me, the one in the notebook you’ve been reading to me, with the waterfall and the beautiful descriptions,” he said.

I wasn’t expecting that. I wasn’t sure what I had been expecting but it wasn’t that.

“Really?” I asked.
He smiled. “Yes,” he said. “That’s all I ask for.”
“I can do that,” I said. “If it ever gets published anywhere, it’ll say it’s dedicated to you right at the beginning.”
“I like the sound of that.”
“Dedicated to Deucalion,” I said. It was fun to say so I repeated it and he laughed. “It’s oddly fun to say.”
“I’m sure it is,” he said before turning back to his breakfast.

He didn’t let go of my hand as he ate and there just seemed to be a permanent smile on my face every time I looked at him.
“Can we dance after this?” I asked. He smiled and nodded. “And then I’ll write your story for you, so I can read it later.”
“It sounds wonderful.”

After downing the remaining half of my cup of tea, I put the empty bowls, cups and the cutlery in the dishwasher ready to be cleaned.

“Do you want to practice what I taught you last time?” he asked before pulling his jumper over his head. I was caught a little off guard by how his shirt clung to his muscles. It seemed today was a day of surprises. “Are you alright?”

Oh no. He had realised.

“I’m fine,” I said, probably a little too quickly as I walked over to him. As I turned to face him, I noticed the skirt of the dress flared out a little and I smiled.
“What are you happy about?”
“The dress, it sort of flares out when I turn,” I said, giggling at it. He smiled and his eyes glowed bright red. I twirled and the dress flared out and I carried on laughing. “I haven’t worn dresses like this in ages, I kind of miss it actually.”
“You look nice,” he said. His eyes had returned back to normal. I thanked him as I stepped towards him.

“Dancing the waltz then, right? I haven’t really practised very well, I’m warning you now.”
“You’re still learning,” he said as he placed his hand on my back.

I had forgotten how tiring and repetitive it was to dance when there was someone else to stop me from giving up after five minutes of failing. But I couldn’t deny that it was fun, it wasn’t something I would have learnt if not for him.

Sitting down on the sofa, I noticed the notebook on the coffee table. I was slightly sweaty which wasn’t fun at all but I could deal with it. As I picked up the notebook, Deuc sat beside me. He held the pen in his hand and offered it out to me.
“I think you’ll need this,” he said with a smile. With a smile on my face, I took the pen from him and thanked him.

As I wrote, he played music as usual and occasionally headed out to the balcony. I couldn’t blame him, it was a sunny day and looked quite warm outside. At one point, he asked if I wanted chocolate and brought me some as a snack which I found rather endearing.

After dinner, I carried on writing for a little while and then stopped.
“Would you like me to read now? I’ve stopped at a nice point. Well, nice for me,” I said with a grin. It was probably not a nice place for him since it was a cliffhanger.
“I’d like that,” he said as he turned the music off and after putting the CD back in its correct place, he sat next to me. “Whenever you’re ready then.”

Smiling, I started to read to him.