I held my blanket close, feeling the warmth of the fabric. The window creaked, and I shut my eyes tight as I braced for the rain to trickle inside. I hated storms as much as I hated smelling cooking Brussels sprouts.
Violent storms always reminded me of the horrific memories, which seemed to be permanently locked away in my mind. The storms brought them back so strongly, and it was then I realized how alone I was.
While I was in bed, it dipped down, and I was suddenly embraced by a warm hand around my middle. The heat of his wet body engulfed me, and instead of retracting in fear of the familiar peppermint schnapps scent I leaned into him.
“I could hear you crying from the streets.”
Hawke.
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t that loud,” I tried to argue, but he kept his body against mine. I didn’t pull away in disgust at his wet shirt plastered against me, I was just happy he was here. “What are you doing? You can’t be in here.”
I should’ve pushed him away. I didn’t know him. I didn’t know what his intentions were, even though he’d given me a place to live, food, and a job. He could have done it just to get in my pants.
Yet, the gut feeling of running never surfaced. I just laid there in his arms, and he gently rocked me back and forth.
When was the last time I was hugged without instigating it?
“Your window was cracked, you really have no sense of self-preservation do you?”
I giggled, but another lightning bolt ripped across the sky, lighting up the entire room. The shadows on the wall moved in a mesmerizing dance, and the small sob that escaped me caused me to break down.
Hawke moved me onto my side and held me close to his chest, and the deep, almost purring sound in his chest soothed me. I let out slow steady breaths as he shushed me, cooed at me, and petted my hair like I was a small child.
“Why are you here?” I asked once the fear faded.
“I’m in charge of you. It’s my job to see to your safety and health.”
I shook my head. “You do this with all the women here?” A spark of jealousy hit me, jealousy I shouldn’t have.
He was the protector, he was the guard of the bar and the apartments, he was the watchman.
He paused for what seemed like an eternity, almost as if he was considering not responding to me. “No, just you.”
I felt my lips tug up into a smile, though I was uneasy with the way he had hopped into my bed without a second thought.
“Are you afraid of storms or is it something else?” he asked.
Both, I wanted to say. But that would just open up for a conversation I wasn’t ready to have with this new acquaintance. Yet, here he was, cuddling me in bed.
“The storm,” I sniffed.
He didn’t like the answer. His throat hummed out a growl, and he tightened his arms around me. “Yeah, I don’t like them either.”
We laid there a long time, listening to the thunder roll slowly into the distance. I knew once the storm was over, he would leave, but I didn’t want him to. It was the first time I felt… I don’t know…safe. That I didn’t have to put on a face for everyone to know I was fine. Hawke had now seen the vulnerability in me, and it didn’t hurt my ego as much. He’d seen me at my lowest, and now I was connected to him in some strange way.
“I tell you what,” he whispered, pulling away from me. “Each time there is a storm, I’ll come visit. We will stay with each other until it’s over?”
Hawke coming back just to make sure I was okay was thoughtful, kind, more than I thought he would ever give. I guess the whole badassedness was just a front, too.
“I’d really like that.” I snuggled deeper into his chest. The storm was gone now, but even he seemed reluctant to let go.
“I’ll just stay until you fall asleep,” he said.
“Can you just stay the rest of the night?” I looked up at him. He was already looking down at me, and a flash of darkness swept through his eyes.
“It’s best I go. I have others to watch over, too.”
Right.