Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 135784 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 679(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135784 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 679(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
His expression is impossible to read. After a moment, Jerrok lets out a long sigh. "I'm not mad, Sophie. Just don't cry, all right? I gave you those books because I don't like seeing you sad."
I flail my gloved hands in the air. "I'm sad because this is ruining everything."
"It's not ruining anything. It's just inconvenient."
"I'm sorry you had to bathe me."
"You'd do the same for me."
I nod, miserable. "I would." And I'd probably creep on his piercings, but I don't bring that up. What he doesn't know won't ruin things further.
"So don't think anything of it," Jerrok says. He gets to his feet in a mighty creak of prosthetics, and a grimace flashes over his face. "We're friends."
"You're sure?" I ask tearfully. I want to wipe my eyes—and my nose—but there's no way. And I can't ask him to do it, either, because that just seems wrong. So I stare at him woefully, my face wet. "I like being your friend. I don't want that to change."
He looks down at me with a gentle expression. "It won't change."
It does, though. Jerrok doesn't come to bed that night, and I fall asleep to the sound of his drill a few rooms away, the low drone in the back of my mind. It's there when I wake up in the morning, and he's quiet for most of the day, his eyes ringed with sleepless circles.
I can take the hint, though. That night, I peel the bandages off and my blisters are almost completely healed, my hands a little shiny and tight. I can use them, though, and so I take Sleipnir and go back to bed in my room. Jerrok needs his space, and as his friend, I'm going to give it to him.
Even if I don't want to.
I worry I'm starting to depend on him too much. That I'm clinging to him. Because I don't like being in my bed by myself. Sleipnir is fine, of course, but I liked the feel of Jerrok's body pressed against mine. It made me feel safe. And I miss talking to him. I miss working with him. I want things to go back to the way they were before that shower and I asked about his piercings and made him grossly uncomfortable.
Wouldn't he just laugh his head off to find out that the annoying human that got dumped on him was also developing a tiny crush? I imagine his mouth twisted in a cruel smirk and shudder. Yeah, no. Distance between us is a good thing.
My vow for distance lasts all of a few hours. I read for a little while, greedily sucked into the old-fashioned red book entitled The Last Days of Pompeii by Edward Bulwer-Lytton. The language is a little stilted and the pages yellow with age, but that just means I can read it slowly and savor it. The other book is A Night to Remember by Walter Lord and it's clear some alien out there loved himself some human disaster porn. It's not the cheeriest of subjects for either book, but I'm just thrilled to have something new to read. I'm engrossed in the lives of Romans, Sleipnir asleep and pressed against my back as he hogs the bed, when I hear it.
A low moan.
I get to my feet and adjust my tunic around my shoulders. My hands feel a little hot, but not so bad, really. I'm more concerned about poor Jerrok, because I know what that moan means. Sleipnir gets up and moves to my leg, but I stroke his head and point to the bed. "Go back to sleep."
He ignores me, of course, because he's got a lot of cat in him.
"All right then," I sigh. "Just don't eat Jerrok, okay? He can't help his bad dreams." I hug my tunic closer to my body and pad down the hall. As I get closer, I hear breathless counting and tossing. My heart squeezes for him and I move over to the bed. Instead of waking him up, though, I just climb in right next to him, sliding an arm around his torso and spooning him from behind.
Jerrok twitches and sucks in a breath. He half rolls over, and then realizes I'm tucked behind him and stops. "Sophie?" he murmurs, voice sleepy. "What are you doing?"
"Coming to bed," I say with a yawn. "I didn't realize it at first, but you sleep better with me, don't you? The nightmares don't come." I slide my hand to his waist and press my face against his back. My legs are bent, lined up with his, and I've never been the big spoon before. It's kind of funny, considering I'm probably half of Jerrok's size, but it's also kinda nice. Like I'm the one giving comfort. After the last few days, he could use it, and I like giving it. I snuggle my face against his skin. No shirt while he's sleeping, it seems, and he's warm. So warm.