"I need to touch you."
His words landed gentle but firm. A promise had been given to her, and he was asking her to give him permission and warning her that he would break it if not.
And she had a feeling that his large, concrete man, vampire, otherworldly creature of danger, would feel pain at breaking a promise. That alone steadied her heart, her breathing, and when she barely moved her head in consent, her body was pulled into his without apology.
She was surrounded by him.
His warmth was unyielding, and his strength soaked into her skin, moving through her body until she felt strong.
She'd held herself distant, feeling vertiginous around this man for months, and in this moment, with the forest crying out and the world pressing in as her fear and anxiety rose inside of her, she let go.
She turned her face until she pressed her nose into the soft white t-shirt that smelled like dryer sheets and summer.
The sounds of the forest gave out. The birds closed their beaks and settled into the trees and bushes. The red fox flicked its tail and nodded its pointed white chin to the pair standing together before finding its sleeping place in the hollow log. And the bullfrogs' balloon throats relaxed as they nestled into their homes of mud under boulders.
And whatever whisper of icy cold had breathed over the forest thawed. Summer took its full place again with thick air and humming crickets.
It was moments or hours that wrapped around Theo Landry holding Tilly Nguyen under the canopy that night when summer pressed unlikely hands against winter's.
She had something big going on inside of her. A touch of magic she couldn't explain and couldn't quite fathom.
The look Astra had given her was the last thing that flashed through her mind. Fear.
Exhaustion swept over her without warning, her knees giving out and suddenly Tilly was cradled in strong arms and he looked down at her slack and peaceful face in worry. And then in awe. The trees and the summer creatures watched as vampire watched her breathe peacefully. He simply stood there. And most that did not have time on their side would not understand, but the trees did and the stars did as they looked down and watched him stand so still with her draped over his arms, gathering time around them, tucking it into his pockets as he was holding this moment just as closely as he was holding her.
The stars twinkled, though he would not see, as they watched him lightly trace a finger over the apple of her cheek. And the curious owl looked on in understanding as he whispered ancient words of peace over her sleeping form.
The forest knew how to give space to time, to hold itself still for those who would seek out refuge and peace. These trees knew what it was to start out young and thin, to hope for their rootsto take in an earth that wasn't always so kind. And once they became stout and filled out their years with rings that would tell of their age, the forest knew how to protect those who wandered in.
Tilly slept soundly in his arms, even as he started walking. He hiked with her gently for over a mile until he was through his door and carrying her up old sweeping stairs down a long hallway into a dark room where she was laid gently on a bed.
But you aren't the kind of person to change the direction of fate.
Settle in and be quiet. Your voice isn't the one. You're not the one to stand up.
There are too many 'what ifs?'.
The voice spoke in gentle strokes over her mind. It was familiar, this voice, and it held a kind of lullaby that she knew as she lay in the dark with its soothing tones and let the words sink in.
High-pitched whistling, pop, then a release sounded in the distance. Both eyes barely opened, lambent light pressed into her vision. It wasn't loud or intrusive and she slowly opened them further until she was blinking up at a ceiling she couldn't place.
A slow tilt of her head took in a crackling fireplace lit to her right, the heat was minimal but it was welcome. Her body felt like it had won a battle with illness, sore and worn. The ivory sheets were smooth and her hand moved slowly over a dark bed cover that was soft and heavy.
The room was large but cozy with high-reaching windows dressed in draped curtains of olive green velvet that pressed against ivory walls and kissed warm wood flooring. Across from the large four-poster bed stood a wall made of bookshelves, stuffed with books as though the owner couldn't fill the shelvesquickly enough. This wasn't a bookshelf meant to be pleasing to a visitor. It was a tribute to learning and consuming words without apology.
She found herself sliding her feet to the thick cream rug taking a moment to notice her feet were bare, the red nail polish nearly disappearing into the warm and soft weave of the rug. Her clothes, however, were still on. Mud was smeared on the side of her thigh and when she stood and turned she frowned at the streaks of mud left in clean ivory sheets. She smelled like earth and sweat and she didn't want to look in the mirror.
The chief had found her on the floor of the forest after...
She frowned trying to think about what exactly had happened there. She remembered every moment, but she couldn't say what had happened.
Her mind had felt like it was bursting. She remembered feeling out of control like she couldn't quite understand or grasp the tail end of any of the thoughts or feelings that had descended on her.
It felt like an attack on her mental capability to navigate clearly.
She lifted a hand to her head, touching her temple where there had been intense throbbing before. Now, all was still. No racing thoughts at war with each other.
She took in a deep breath and held it for a few seconds before releasing it and then walked across the room to the inviting bookshelf. It was a remarkable display of a love of books. From the floor, all the way to the floral-carved crown molding, books of various sizes, both paperback and hardback, squeezed against each other trying to fit. She couldn't imagine one more book fitting. Her fingertips trailed along a row, the feeling of paperbacks having been loved dearly against the pads of her fingers until they stopped. She bit her lip in a smile when she shimmied two books out of their crowded home.
