Page 26 of In Death's Hands
If Nathan was once human, then maybe it makes sense for him to still have a sort of family among us.
I don’t know. Honestly, with my current situation and my wild imagination, anything could seem to make sense.
After fishing for some clean knickers and pyjamas out of another well-labelled box, I head for the bathroom. It looks very similar to his except for the fact that this one has white walls instead of dark ones. But there is the same wooden counter beneath the fancy sink. It’s the light to his dark.
I make quick work of the shower that’s just as amazing as his, not needing to wash my hair this time. After brushing my teeth and applying some cream to my incredibly smooth and healed face, I head back to the—I still can’t think of it as mine—bedroom.
Climbing into bed, refusing to think of the man a few walls away probably doing the same, I relish the firm mattress and soft sheets. I play with the buttons next to my head and find that one controls the light, another starts the air conditioning that is definitely not needed in autumnal London, and a third controls the windows. Controls as in allows me to tint them and shut out the lights of the city. Baffled, I play with it for a few minutes before chastising myself and turning everything off to sleep.
Or at least, try to. The moment I close my eyes, I am bombarded with images of angry faces with scars, cloaked bodies and shadow hands. I turn once, twice. Thirty times. I lie on my back, eyes wide open to get the images to stop coming, but they’re relentless.
Sighing heavily, I turn the light back on and look around. I don’t know where my laptop is, and I don’t feel like digging it up. Not even the thought of plunging back into a comforting fantasy world gives me the strength to look for a book. Maybebecause real life has started to feel too close to those stories. I am depleted and riled up all at once.
With nothing better to do, I get up and softly open the door. Peeking out, I don’t know if I’m relieved or disappointed to find the space quiet and empty.
On silent feet, I walk to the kitchen and snoop around the cabinets. They’re all empty except for a couple of glasses, some plates and silverware. Does he even live here?
I open the fridge next and find some milk, white bread as well as jam and chocolate spread. Shrugging, I take it all out and make myself a snack. It doesn’t escape my notice that they’re all brand new, probably bought today by Turan, as I’ve been with Nathan the entire time and he hasn’t once stepped inside a store.
Ignoring the questions adding themselves to the already existing mountain, I warm some milk and drop some of the chocolate spread in it. I don’t like natural milk, and there’s no cocoa powder to be found in this depressing as hell kitchen, so I guess it’ll do.
When I’ve finished spreading an indecent amount of chocolate on a few slices of bread, I pour the milk into a glass and take my bounty to the couch. I wish the fire was on, if only to fill the silence and drown out my thoughts. The milk is surprisingly good, and I drink it quickly as I devour the bread, hoping against reason that a food coma will take me down for the night.
I close my eyes and try counting my breaths. I’ve attempted meditation a few times in my life, but never stuck with it long enough to reap its benefits. Now seems as good a time as any to give it another go.
Trying to push the insidious thoughts away before they can take root, I yelp as I suddenly feel the couch dipping next to me.My eyes open quickly only to find themselves stuck on Nathan’s chest. Bare chest.
It’s hard to swallow as I force my gaze up the vast expanse of sleek skin and toned muscles. His eyes are dark and full of words I can’t hear. He refuses to share them as he bends over me. My brain freezes completely as his scent hits me, reminding me of a crisp winter night in the forest. The memories of bright laughter around a campfire and huddling in a tent dissolve as quickly as they appeared when Nathan lets out a sharp breath that skitters across my too-hot cheeks.
Before I can understand what’s going on and attempt to slow my wild pulse, he settles back down, holding the blanket that was previously folded behind me.
Right.
Instead of wrapping it around himself and providing a much-needed break from my filthy thoughts, he gently drapes the fabric on top of me, making sure I’m covered from shoulders to toes. The warmth in my cheeks suddenly drops lower. Like way down south lower.
Still without a word, he relaxes back into the couch and pops his feet on the coffee table. While he wraps his hands on top of his well-defined stomach, he closes his eyes and lets out a long breath that has his shoulders relaxing.
I gape at him.
He doesn’t move again, and it takes me an embarrassing amount of time to allow my own jaw to shut and my body to relax. I curl into a ball, careful not to touch him, and close my eyes.
Convinced it’s a waste of time, especially with him looking like that, a mere touch away, I don’t realise how fast I’m fallingasleep. The sound of his soft breathing is the only thing I take with me to the dream realm.
Waking up is an experience.
It doesn’t happen all at once. No, today I get to savour it. My thoughts become a little bit more conscious. I burrow deeper into the warmth at my side, willing the world to just stop for a minute. I start to register that that warmth I’m so comfortably nestled against is moving ever so slightly. A pleasant rhythm that threatens to take me back under.
Sadly, all good things crash around me, and this moment is no exception. A chuckle has my brain cells exploding with life and understanding.
I jolt awake, blood rushing to my cheeks so fast I feel lightheaded.
Nathan slowly blinks at me. He looks adorable, rubbing his eyes with his right hand while trying to get his left back. Back from where it is trapped between my back and the couch.
His eyes widen when he focuses on me, probably mirroring mine.
I hear the same chuckle and remember what woke me. Slowly, I turn towards the woman who emitted the delighted sound.
Shit.
