Page 70 of Sunder

The day was growing late, and the warmth of the day was easing. The hot tea would be welcome, and his company more so, and she could test her resolve to make friends with the Brum.

“Lovely,” Athan agreed, and from the way he glanced at her and smiled, she wondered if he was referring to her idea or to her.

Which was absurd because she’d taken very little care with her appearance and she hadn’t tidied her hair after returning home and...

He made up a tray and opened the back door and waited for her to go through first. “Coming?”

And he had no business looking as handsome as he did. Not when she certainly wasn’t lovely and yet...

She swallowed thickly.

And if she brushed his arm as she passed, and if he drew in a sharp little breath when she did so...

Maybe it was about her after all.

5. Read

“You sure this is how you want to do this?”

Yes.

No.

He was right to ask. She’d changed her mind at least three times already.

First had been the kitchen table. But that had become a... nice place for her. Somewhere to share and learn as she watched him cook. He’d even let her handle one of the smallest knives as she cut one of the shrivelled roots she’d handled and come to learn were not in fact spoiled as she’d first feared.

So not the table.

Not outside either. Because what if the papers blew away in the breeze and someone else found them and they saw, and that was intolerable.

She’d caught a glimpse of one page, and there werediagrams.

Rudimentary, without shape and shading like a true artist might have done to represent a living person, but it was enough to make her stomach roil at even Athan seeing them.

Which meant inside. To a sitting room that held yet another over-large cushion next to a plush armchair, the fabric worn thin in places. Her mother would have allowed no one to see herfurniture in such a state, but Athan merely brushed his hand over it fondly. “I’ll share,” he offered, although the setup clearly suggested this was his seat and the Brum sat on the pillow at his feet.

The chaise, then. The cushions were stiff from disuse, but they might yield with a little time on her part. There was a hearth and a table with a lamp, and it would be quite cosy in the wintertime.

Now it felt stuffy and closed in, and the hearth was just empty stone and she glanced about the unfamiliar room.

Which made Athan ask her again if she was really ready.

Which she wasn’t.

But she was also tired of the delay.

Things were still new between them, but they were less strangers and more... not friends exactly. Not mates, either. Companions, perhaps. While she dressed in the washroom and Athan kept Brum to common areas.

It had felt so strange having a man climb into her bed. She tried to think of it as theirs—it helped a little when she’d gone up and found that his coverlet was across the foot of it. But the pillows were hers, and the days and nights spent inside of it, and she peeked over shyly more than once to see him settled there.

“Comfortable?” she asked, because they could switch it back. Or... they could move to the other room. That would be better, wouldn’t it? Rather than fetch the haulers to play with the arrangements.

He’d already lowered the lamp, so he was just a dark figure aside from the wisps of a bond happily settled against his skin. Twining and pulsing because he was looking at her. Was reaching inward to see how she felt in turn, and she shivered a little to feel so exposed and yet...

It wasn’t troublesome. Wasn’t intrusive and horrid as she’d feared.

It was... nice.

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