Her leg is shaking, too. Dammit. What’s going on? Is it because I shouted at her? Surely not. Did something happen at her brother’s home?
“Kat, kitten, are you okay?” I ask gently, brushing my hand over her.
She shakes her head.No.I reach out and wrap my arm around her shoulders, pulling her against me. Her entire body is shaking uncontrollably. She’s in shock or overwhelmed. She’s struggling, and I’ve just been laying into her with my anger without even realizing that she’s numb and suffering.
Deciding that the mansion is too far away, I change course and head towards my penthouse, which is right around the corner. She needs me now. She doesn’t need to be sitting in a car, driving through town. I want to talk to her, face to face. Not like this.
“We’ll be home soon, kitten. Just hang in there,” I say gently, kissing the top of her head.
I park underground and climb out of the car in a hurry, walking to her side. She climbs out in silence, letting me take her hand and lead her from the parking garage into the building.
In the elevator leading up to the penthouse, she stands quietly, her eyes looking hollow and empty. She’s been crying. Her cheeks are patchy pink, and her eyes are shaded red from it.
She is a shell of herself. A lost little girl, trying to deal with something that I don’t yet understand.
It breaks my heart, and I carefully pull her towards me, lifting her into my arms and cradling her against my chest. She doesn’t fight me. Instead, she nuzzles her face into the warmth of my neck and closes her eyes.
I carry her into the penthouse, to the bedroom, and set her down on the bed.
She sits on the edge while I untie her shoes and pull them gently off her feet. Then I lift her again and pull the blankets back, setting her beneath them and pulling them up over her.
“Close your eyes for a bit. Rest. I’ll make some tea. Do you want something to eat?”
“Just tea,” she answers softly, rolling onto her side.
“I’ll be right back, kitten. I promise.” Stroking my hand over her forehead, down her back, and through her long golden blonde hair, my heart aches for her. I hope she tells me what’s going on. I want to help her, if she’ll let me.
In the kitchen, I hum. It’s not something I usually do, but it’s my way of reassuring her that I’m close. That I’m here for her.
The kettle boils, and I stand with my hands pressed against the counter, my head busy, but my heart focused on her.
I pour boiling water into a mug, then drop a tea bag into it. Dark sepia stains leak slowly from the dried herbs inside the neat little cream-colored bag, a swirling, gentle pool of tea that sets a subtle aroma in the air.
I add one sugar and a splash of milk, then remove the tea bag and head towards the bedroom.
Katerina is curled up into a ball. She’s lying on her side beneath the blanket, with it pulled up high over her cheeks. Her legs are bent up against her chest, and she’s as small as she can possibly be in the massive bed.
Setting the teacup on the bedside table, I sit down next to her, leaning my back against the headboard, and pull her gently into my arms.
At first, she’s stiff, trying to stay in her own protective little ball, but after a while, the muscles of her body ease and release some of their tension, and she snuggles against my side with her cheek resting on my chest.
I don’t push her to speak to me. And I don’t speak to her. When she’s ready, I’m here for her. That’s all she needs to know.
Slowly, I trace my fingers through her hair, down her back, over and over again, brushing out the knots with my fingers, and letting my touch soothe over her.
Time passes without me counting the seconds. All I care about is that I have her here in my arms.
That she’s with me. It’s the only thing that matters to me. I want to keep it this way.
Eventually, Katerina stirs and lets out a soft sigh.
I lift my arm from around her as she sits up, blinking a few times, biting her lower lip as she glances at me. She rubs her eyes as though they are tired or dry.
“Your tea might need to be warmed up,” I smile.
She shakes her head, repositioning herself so that she’s also sitting with her back against the headboard. She pulls her knees towards herself and crosses her legs beneath the blanket.
“It’s okay, I like it like this,” she says, reaching for her lukewarm tea and sipping it.
