Thallor’s eyes remained locked on mine as he pulled off my shirt. I was wearing little other than a thin lace bralette and thelayered necklaces I’d put on earlier that evening. “I’m going to stand behind you, okay?” he said gently as he moved so that I was no longer facing him, but out into my silent apartment.
He reached over the table to the folded pile of clothes, pulling from the heap my camisole and then my sweater.
“May I remove this?” he asked quietly from behind me. For a moment, I didn’t say anything, expecting him to simply continue. But he held resolute in his stillness, waiting for my response. It took me a few moments to realise he was waiting for me to confirm if I was comfortable with him undressing me. My mind was all over the place, but given that he’d stepped behind me so my body wasn’t exposed to him as he helped me out of my blood-soaked clothes, I nodded once.
I held my arms forward before pulling them through each of the undone straps of my bra. For a demon–one that had actively shown little regard for human emotion–Thallor moved with meticulous precision. Taking a washcloth from the pile and running it under warm water, he began to remove all the grime from my body. He moved with a gentleness that felt just for me, washing each and every horrible memory of tonight from my skin.
Each and every movement was slow and tender, bringing his hands as close to my skin without ever actually touching me as he helped me into my pyjama shorts. Once I was dressed, he picked me up and sat me on the counter before moving the chair from the makeshift desk in my bedroom to the kitchen sink.
He motioned tentatively for me to take a seat. Once again, it seemed to come as a suggestion rather than a demand, and I moved willingly. Thallor waited for me to get comfortable as the running water rushed past my ear and pushed away any lingering thoughts. For a moment, it was all I could focus on, ensuring I didn’t lose myself completely in the uncertainty ofthe events as they transpired. Once the water was warm, Thallor looked down at me with a weary smile that simply said, ‘I’m here and I’ve got you’.
“I need to wash out the blood from your hair,” he said, looking down at me. “Is that okay?”
I nodded again because it was all I could muster up by way of response. Thallor pulled my hair into the sink, letting me feel the temperature of the water before slowly working to get the dirt out of my hair. I could smell theoat and coconut-scented shampoo I always used emanating from behind me as Thallor lathered up my hair.
His expression was set in a dark, firm concentration that made my pulse jitter erratically. When he finally caught me staring, the harshness of his features softened until his lips were set in a tight line and his brows furrowed in concern.
“You okay?” he says softly.
One blink.No.
“You will be.”
Two.Yes.
He washed my hair several times over before picking me up and setting me back down on the kitchen stool. Every time he carried me, I felt the warmth of his body envelope me, thawing the ice-cold feeling in my chest. I seemed to fit into the crook of his body as if I belonged there, and each time he set me down, I wanted to beg him to stay, to keep holding me until I couldn’t remember anything but him.
I was so used to being alone, I’d forgotten what it was like to be cared for. But Thallor afforded me attention I’d never quite experienced. It was a level of attention I’d never asked for,from anyone,because I’d never considered myself deserving of such a thing. But in every touch, every action, in every spoken request for consent, I saw all the things I hadn’t quite seen in him before. Whilst I had been watching Thallor for all thewrongreasons–noticing the things that frustrated me–I couldn’t help but feel like he had been watching me for some other reason entirely.
“Stay there a minute, okay?” He gestured toward my chair but let his hand linger a moment longer on my shoulder as if letting himself know I was still safe before he cleared a large space in the living room. I let my eyes follow him around my home.Our home,as he pulled out the sofa bed.
And then he was gone again, and I was left alone in the quiet of my own thoughts as the silence stretched between me and my apartment walls. My mind was tired and heavy. And in the absence of his touch, I felt cold. I looked up again when his footsteps returned as he gathered blankets and pillows and arranged them all in front of the TV. Once he was happy with the way he had organised it, he stepped back over to me, once again placing a tentative hand on my cheek before looking into my eyes. This time, I leaned into it, letting myself get lost in the redness of his gaze that seemed to peer into my soul as if he were trying to piece it back together.
“Movie?”
I knew that wasn’t what he was offering. He wasn’t asking if I wanted to watch a movie. He was offering to fill the silence, the empty space inside me. The cracks in my being. I wasn’t even sure if I had the energy to sit there. To pretend like I wasn’t already numb.
I met his eyes for a second, but I couldn’t hold the gaze. The words felt heavy on my tongue, stuck somewhere deep, but I didn’t know how to voice them. Didn’t know how to say that, right now, a movie didn’t matter. That nothing really mattered.
“I…” My voice cracked, and I swallowed hard, trying to push the lump away. “I don’t think I can…”
His expression faltered for just a moment. I watched as the stoic mask he wore slipped, revealing a fear I hadn’t seen before. “You’re safe,” he said again. I wasn’t sure if he was saying it for him or for me, but I nodded anyway because I knew I was withhim.
Before I could say anything else, Thallor had moved quickly, letting his hand slide under my leg before pulling me into his chest. I leaned into him, feeling the regular cadence of his heartbeat as he ferried me toward the bed.
For a while, I didn’t talk. I didn’t say or do anything. I just stared down at the sheets in front of me, letting my thoughts run wild and trying not to lose myself in the process. I was pulled from my own descent into madness by the soft meowing as Mort settled onto my lap. I let out a long breath, one I hadn’t been aware I was holding onto, as Thallor laid a hand on my back and began to move it in small, gentle circles.
I felt sad. So inexplicably sad. Because there Thallor was, offering to take all my pain away, and I didn’t know how to reach for it. I didn’t know how to let him in. I’d spent so long being alone that the thought of him, Mortimer, and me all sitting there felt so novel and uncomfortable. But I didn’t want it to be. Because I was tired. Tired of feeling so alone.
“I don’t know how to do this…” I trailed off, struggling to formulate the sentences in my own tangle of thoughts. “I’ve spent so long on my own, I’m… I don’t know how to let someone take care of me.”
“Shh, you don’t have to explain anything to me, Sterling,” he said as he pulled me into his lap, settling Mort with a look that said, ‘I take care of you all the time.’
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, letting my head fall to rest on the muscles of his chest.
“What are you sorry for?”
“For burdening you with all of this. Forme.I know you hate me, and I’m just making it worse.”His expression flickered. As if he wasn’t quite sure how to handle the strange vulnerabilitythat slipped into my words. For a moment, I saw a glimmer of something softer in his expression, something that didn’t quite belong to the demon he tried so hard to be.
