I inhaled it deeper and curled up, feeling cozy and familiar, like I was in a soft warm den. Part of me wanted to stay up longer, just to smell the pillow and sheets more, but sleep enveloped me once again.
* * *
Igroanedand forced myself to open my eyes. Above me was an unfamiliar white ceiling. Thin horizontal light was filtering in through unfamiliar blinds. I blinked and tried to find my bearings. I sniffed the air.
Suddenly I sat up with a jolt. I was in Victor’s apartment.
No, not just that.
I was in Victor’s room. In his bed.
I stared down at the comforter, which I noticed I was gripping too hard. I let go and looked around the room, somehow both relieved and disappointed that Victor wasn’t here. Guilt washed over me. He hadn’t offered the bed to me in the first place, and I had only known him for less than a day – what the hell was I doing sleeping in his bed for?
Still, I thought, sliding back down and falling against the cushiony pillow, itwasthe most comfortable bed I ever remembered sleeping in.
Just… five more minutes.
My eyes fluttered shut again and I took a deep breath. The whole apartment had a comforting scent. It was heaven compared to the rotting shack of a building I’d been living in.
I furrowed my brows. A strange sense of sadness came over me when I realized therewasno more rotting shack of a building. It was gone.
I sighed. At least nobody was hurt, and that was all anyone could ask for.
Sitting up again, I thought of Doris. I recalled the awful day before and realized she must have gone for help when I was fighting off the mugger. That would explain her absence. Relief flooded me. I was so scared she would abandon me. I felt bad for even doubting her at all.
What about the mugger?
My blood ran cold. Memories of the gash in his shoulder and the blood pouring out of it made me shudder. I didn’t want to think about it, but I was responsible for the damage. It was my fault.
I slumped back into the mattress and pulled the comforter over my head.
I hope he’s okay…
My stomach growled. With a groan I threw the comforter off and sat up again. Victor invited me to help myself to anything in the fridge, but I was still unsure. I didn’t want to eat anything he might want to save for himself later, and he’d bought it with his own money and –
My stomach interrupted my thoughts with a loud growl.
“Fine,” I grunted.
I got out of bed, then looked back at it and tried to arrange the sheets and comforter the same way they had been before. I grimaced and hoped he wouldn’t notice.
As I stumbled into the hall, I took the chance to fully appreciate how nice Victor’s apartment was. It was well-kept and tidy, but not in an uptight way. A few books and sweaters were tossed around, making it actually look like someone lived here. The bedroom walls were painted a nice blue, and the rest of the apartment was a pleasant cream color.
I made my way to the kitchen, where it stood untouched from the night before. The slightest hint of a sharp tang caught my nose. There was an upside-down shot glass in the sink, sparkling clean, but my shifter nose couldn’t help but detect the lingering stink of alcohol.
Turning my back to the sink, I turned to the fridge. My hand lingered. Victor told me to help myself to anything, but…
My defiant stomach growled again. I groaned. Not able to stand my hunger any longer, I opened the fridge.
The entire top shelf was lined with pre-packaged, but unopened, trays of food from the supermarket. Inside were crackers, cheeses, sliced meats and grapes. I peeked under one of the trays, hoping to scrounge something a bit more filling, only to find another one.
“Okay…”
The middle shelf was mostly empty. There was an untouched container of soy milk and a little basket of mushrooms. I wrinkled my nose.
But the bottom coolers were full to bursting. Fruits and vegetables lined the bottom of the fridge like a rainbow. I kneeled down and opened one, picking out an apple. Everything looked and smelled fresh, like it was purchased recently.
I stood back up with my apple in hand and stared at the fridge. Something about this was odd. Unable to put my finger on it, I closed the door and flopped onto the couch with my apple. It was crisp and vibrant, and despite it not being my first choice for breakfast (I could have gone for a whole stack of syrup-drenched pancakes, to be honest), it still tasted good.
