I waited eight years. If you want me to stay away forever, tell me.
I had to show him that he had agency and I’d disappear if he gave the word. How ironic that I’d longed to leave town and now I might be forced to if Pax wanted nothing to do with me.
Tiny tendrils of smoke from my dragon curled from my nostrils as I set up the chair with a view to the turret windows. The air was chilly, and I was glad of my puffy jacket.
Just knock on the door.
He told me to stay away. I reasoned that camping out in his yard was giving him space and hoped it didn’t antagonize him further.
I pulled out a thermos of coffee and poured a cup. Above me the turret windows were dark, so either I was mistaken and he was in his bed and didn’t give a damn about me or he was asleep. Or perhaps he was peeking out and I couldn’t see him. I hoped it was the latter.
The place where the tattoo sat on my shoulder was aching, and I wondered if Pax’s tattoo was doing the same.
The town woke up around me and cars went past as people made their way to work and school. I didn’t look at them, but by lunchtime, every inhabitant would know I was camped out in June Bartholomew’s yard. But I didn’t care. The only person I did care about was not talking to me.
Around eight, I got up and paced over the grass. I wasn’t used to just sitting and doing nothing. Instead, I checked what needed doing in the yard. None of the fenceposts needed replacing, but with the recent rain, the grass needed mowing again.
I should bring the mower tomorrow. Wow. I’d already accepted that I'd be here another day, but I didn’t want to take time off to go home and shower or grab a coffee. My intention was to show Pax I was committed to being here until he was ready to talk. But whether I’d like what he might say was debatable.
One of the curtains I’d help Pax hang in the turret twitched. Both my dragon and I noted the slight movement.
He’s watching.
Or getting ready to turf me out or throw a bucket of ice water on my head.
I pulled out the book in my jacket pocket and pretended to be reading, not that I could focus on the words. If Pax was looking, I wanted to appear non-threatening, though I had invaded his garden.
By lunchtime I was starving and got the sandwiches I’d made early this morning. In the midday light, they didn’t look appetizing, but I forced myself to eat one and washed it down with water that had gone warm in the sun.
The afternoon dragged on, and I checked my watch multiple times. I fixed the roller door that hadn’t closed all the way, which took twenty minutes. It was something to do with my hands atleast. Pax could now park inside and lock the door, though in this town, there wasn’t much need for it. But that was assuming he stayed.
That thought had me slumping back on the chair and putting my head in my hands.
What if this doesn’t work? And don’t say “Storm the building.”
My dragon didn't respond, and that scared me more than his usual demands.
The sun set and the temperature dropped. I'd brought a sleeping bag, and I spread it out in the truck bed, climbed in, and zipped it up to my chin. I stared at the bright stars overhead and thought about Pax in the turret doing the same thing when he was a kid.
He’d made wishes, and I closed my eyes and made one of my own.
I didn’t sleep well and opened my eyes every hour. From here, I couldn’t tell if there was a light in Pax’s bedroom, as he’d told me he was still sleeping in the same room he had as a child.
The next day began with rain. At first it was a light shower, but it got heavier and I was soon drenched.
Scales are much better than skin in the rain.
No way was I shifting, and I told my beast to cool it. He was warm and cozy.
I stayed in the chair and pulled my hood up as I hunched over to avoid the worst of the wind.
This is silly. Humans don’t do this.
How can you forget that you and I are not human?
My dragon took a snooze after that, saying I was ridiculous.
I was shivering an hour later, with water dripping off my nose and running down the back of my neck. I should have brought a tarp, but I hadn't thought that far ahead.
