Page 30 of Thawed Gladiator Thrax

Thrax doesn’t need to be told twice. He practically sighs with relief as he kicks off his shoes. “I will never understand why people in your time wear such uncomfortable footwear,” he grumbles good-naturedly.

I slip off my own shoes and climb onto the makeshift double bed, patting the space next to me. “Come on, get comfortable. We’re about to watch something special.”

Thrax hesitates for a moment before joining me on the bed. He moves carefully, as if afraid he might break something. I can’t help but smile at the contrast between his massive frame and his gentle movements.

“Relax,” I tell him, scooting closer. “This is supposed to be fun.”

He nods, some of the tension leaving his shoulders as he settles in beside me. I reach for the remote and turn on the TV. It takes me a few moments to set up screen mirroring, and the adaptor to my laptop that will connect to an earbud so he’ll get the Latin translation. All the while, Thrax looks hungrily between me and the popcorn.

“Go ahead, you can munch away.” Then I make my best attempt at an announcer’s voice as I say, “Ladies and gentlemen, please take your seats as the show is about to begin.”

After pressing play, the opening scenes ofGroundhog Daybegin to roll. I watch Thrax’s face carefully, noting every flicker of emotion that crosses his features as he munches handfuls of popcorn.

As the movie progresses, Thrax becomes more and more engrossed. He gasps at the concept of repeating the same day, nods approvingly at Phil’s initial confusion about what’s happening to him, and even chuckles at some of the dialogue. His reactions are so pure and genuine that I can’t help but watch him more than the screen.

During a quieter moment, he turns to me, his eyes shining with emotion. “This is… incredible,” he says softly. “A man trapped in time, like me, but different. He gets to live the same day over and over until he gets it right.”

I can’t help but marvel at how deeply he connects with the story. “You know, you kind of got the opposite deal,” I tease gently. “Instead of repeating the same day, you jumped forward two thousand years.”

His expression softens as he reaches for my hand. “And found you,” he murmurs, his voice rough with emotion. “Perhaps Goddess Fortuna had a plan all along.”

My heart melts at his words. We turn our attention back to the movie, but our hands remain linked, his thumb tracing lazy patterns on the back of my hand. Every touch sends little sparks of electricity through my body.

As Phil Connors learns to use his time to become a better person, I feel Thrax shift beside me, becoming more contemplative. “He changes,” Thrax observes quietly. “Each day, he learns, grows, becomes more…”

“More human?” I suggest.

He nods, his eyes never leaving the screen. “Like me, maybe. Learning this new world, day by day.”

I snuggle closer, breathing in his scent. “You’re doing pretty well, I’d say. Haven’t played with any high-voltage toasters lately.”

His laugh rumbles through his chest. “No, but I may have tried to blow out the lamp on my nightstand instead of using the switch.”

We both dissolve into giggles at the idea, and I find myself falling even deeper for this wonderful man who faces each day with such openness, appreciation, and a healthy dose of courage.

As the movie continues, we gradually shift positions until I’m practically in his lap, my head resting against his chest. His heartbeat provides a steady rhythm beneath my ear, more soothing than any lullaby.

I must drift off at some point because the next thing I know, Thrax is gently stroking my hair, the credits rolling on the screen. “Sleep well, my Skye,” he whispers, probably thinking I’m still asleep.

The sweetness of his tone, of those words, practically liquifies my insides. I want to stay awake, to savor every moment with him, but his warmth and the gentle rise and fall of his chest are too comforting to resist. I turn down the volume and fall asleep, my head on his chest. I dream of Punxsutawney Phil and flying machines and the gentle giant whose face is now almost as familiar as my own.

When I wake again, the room is dark except for the soft glow of the TV screen. Thrax is still holding me, his breathing deep and even. I smile, realizing he fell asleep, too.

For a moment, I just watch him, this amazing man who crossed time itself to be here. His face is peaceful in sleep, all the usual tension melted away. I reach up to trace his jaw with my fingertip, and his eyes flutter open, his gaze immediately drawn to my face and then arrowing to my lips with barely hidden hunger.

“Hey,” I whisper.

“Hey,” he replies, his voice husky with sleep. Then he grins. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep on our first movie date.”

“Me neither,” I admit with a laugh. “But it was perfect anyway.”

His expression turns tender as he cups my face in his large hand. “Every moment with you is perfect, Skye.”

And then he’s kissing me, soft and sweet, and I’m melting into him, and nothing else matters. Not time, not distance, not the impossibility of our situation. Just us, together, making the most of every precious moment we’re given.

When we finally pull apart, both a little breathless, I can’t help but smile. “Want to watch another one?”

His answering grin is all the response I need. As we settle in for another movie, I realize that, like Phil Connors, we’re learning to make each day count. And I wouldn’t want to spend them with anyone else.

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