Page 30 of Cozy Prisons
She gasped and jerked around. Daxus stepped out of the shadows next to her house. What was he doing here? More importantly, how long had he been lurking near her home?
“Are you looking for something?” he asked, approaching cautiously.
“Um, yeah,” she said. The fear threatening to swamp her receded as he drew close. She wiped at her face, afraid that he might see the remnant of the few tears that escaped her hold.
“Let me fetch some walking torches, and we can search together,” he offered.
She forced herself to laugh. It sounded high-pitched and manic instead of lighthearted, but it was the best she could do.
“I’ll wait until tomorrow,” she said.
He learned over a little to put his face even with hers. “What’s on your cheeks?”
“Nothing,” she said, and went to wipe her face again, worried she’d missed a tear. He grabbed her wrist to stop her movement. His grip was gentle, but firm. She wasn’t going to get loose until he released her.
“Don’t touch yourself; I smell blood. You could be injured and not realize it.”
“I’m sure it’s nothing,” she said, working a smile onto her face. “Probably a little scratch.”
“I’m going to pick you up and carry you to Healer Falkilm,” he stated.
No! She wouldn’t be able to handle being scanned and questioned by Falkilm while Daxus stood there and told the healer everything he’d seen.
She sucked in a deep breath and used the same commanding voice she’d used back when she was the repair lead on a station. “No, Daxus.”
He reared back, but didn’t let go of her wrist. “No?”
“No,” she said, feeling her old self coming back a little. “We’re going to walk into my domicile. You’ll fix some tea, and I’ll check my face in the mirror.”
“No more tea,” he said. “It’s too late for that.”
“Fine, we can have some sopa,” she agreed. Who cared about the tea when he was giving in on the more important issue?
Using his grip on her wrist to lead him as if they were holding hands, she faced the house and started walking. He followed.
“I’ll see to your face,” he said, as the door slid shut behind them.
Ducking her head down, some of her hair helped hide her face. “If it’s dirt, I’ll be embarrassed. Let me check for myself.”
Her ploy didn’t work. “Why be embarrassed? Without paved roads, we all battle the dust and dirt constantly.”
He finally let go of her hand but was quick to circle around her and put the single chair in front of her.
“Let me fetch a cleansing cloth,” he said, moving away. “Then I’ll get you some sopa.”
She sighed and rubbed under her eyes. She didn’t feel any fresh wetness. Maybe it was dirt. That’d be funny! Almost getting dragged to Falkilm because of some suspicious smelling dirt.
When he returned, he sank to his knees in front of her. More confident now, she lifted her face, only to have him let out a worried rumble.
“It’s blood,” he said, dabbing gently at the skin under her right eye and down her cheek.
“What?” she said, startled. She hadn’t fallen or run into anything, so how was there blood on her face?
“I don’t see an obvious wound,” he said, purring loudly. She remained still while he worked, even though she was dying to look in a mirror. Finally, he sat back and sounded a questioning rumble. “There’s no injury. The blood must’ve come from somewhere else.”
“I told you there was nothing wrong,” she said, even as he started taking short quick breaths through his nose slits. He leaned in close and moved his nose in the air around her. When he got close to her lap, she tried to chuckle and pushed his head away.
“Hey, usually you understand personal space better than that,” she teased.
