I’ve no way of knowing the answers.
He presses his lips together and says, “You shouldn’t start things you can’t finish, Hayami,” and I’m not sure whether he’s referring to the snowball fight or something else entirely.
FORTY-THREE
HAYAMI
PRESENT
Fenrir finishes clearingthe path to the wood store, and I head inside to make us some soup, because I need to get away from him, his words running on a loop.
Don’t start things you can’t finish.
I don’t understand what he meant by that.Was he referring to the snowball fight, which was only a bit of fun to lighten the mood, or was he referring to this morning when I’d watched him in the shower?
I’ve no idea, but I’m hoping cooking will distract me.
The kitchen feels different this morning.No shadows are clinging to the corners of the room.There are no drawers like monsters with their jaws open wide, and no sharp objects like teeth waiting to bite.It seems strange that this happened only hours ago, and now there’s no evidence of it, like it never really happened at all.
After tying my hair back, I roll up my sleeves and assess the ingredients I have to work with.
It isn’t long before the kitchen smells of tomatoes, basil, and hot bread.
Right on cue, Fenrir arrives in the kitchen, shrugging off his coat and hanging it over the large radiator.His right cheek is flushed pink with the cold, yet the left side of his face remains pale, the scarred skin never changing colour.
“Just in time,” I say as I place a steaming bowl of soup on the table.
A nod is all the thanks I get as he sits.
We eat in silence that’s fractured by the scraping of spoons and the tearing of bread.He doesn’t look at me, and I can’t seem to look away from him.All the while, a tension brews that began the minute his head turned towards the open doorway to the en suite this morning.
I’ve tried to ignore it.Tried to pretend it didn’t happen.I’ve tried to be funny, light-hearted, and comical to ease the tension that sits at the table with us, but it hasn’t worked.
As soon as I’ve finished, I clean the kitchen and head upstairs.I don’t tell him where I’m going.He’ll work it out for himself, but I need to be alone, and this is the only place I can be alone in this house.
Closing the door to my en suite, I lean against it, taking in large gulps of air as I try to clear my thoughts.People can go crazy when cooped up for long periods, and maybe that’s what’s happening here.Fenrir and I have been alone for several days now.Throw in the bizarre occurrences, and no wonder we’re starting to act strangely towards each other.Maybe that’s all this is, just cabin fever setting in.
I turn on the shower and allow the water to heat before stripping off and stepping under the stream.
I close my eyes and let the hot spray warm my body.This is what I needed.The snow had chilled me, the ice down my back had been almost painful, and my hands had been so red when I’d come back inside.Cooking had thawed me out a little, the soup defrosting my insides, but the water now washes away the icy atmosphere that accompanied our meal, and it’s bliss.
Dipping my head under the faucet, I let the water run over my skin, cleansing away the little niggles, the silly thoughts, and the strain at the table.I remain this way for several minutes, just letting the water do its job, until I hear a noise.
The door opens.
I freeze.
What the fuck?
I’m relievedwhen Fenrir steps into the room, but it’s quickly replaced with confusion.
What is he doing here?
He says nothing.His face gives nothing away.He just leans against the far wall, arms folded, watching me.
Okay.Okay, I get this.
Hedidsee me this morning watching him in the shower.No wonder the atmosphere has been frosty.But this?What is this?
