“Pikachu! You found him!” Elijah turns to me with pure joy, running back toward me.
I stare down at the yellow toy, and for a split second, my brain goes blank.
Then he looks up at me.
“Thank you!” He beams, assuming I’m the one responsible. And then it happens.
The kid hugs me.
Full-on, arms-wrapped, face-pressed-into-my-leg hug.
I freeze.
What the hell?
The warmth of his small body presses against me for a moment too long, and I stand there like a statue, unsure of what the fuck I’m supposed to do with this. Hug him back? Shove him off?
Instead, he pulls away, clutching Pikachu to his chest, beaming like I’m some kind of hero.
“Did you bring him back for me, Bad Guy Meowth?” Elijah looks up at me, all innocent trust. His fingers clutch the stuffed toy as if it’s a trophy.
I frown.Meowth?
I narrow my eyes, “I’m not… Meowth.” I rub a hand over my face again. “And I sure as hell didn’t bring back your toy.”
Elijah tilts his head as if that little detail doesn’t even matter and just grabs my hand with his other free hand.
“I’m hungry,” he says, like this is the most normal thing in the world. Like he hasn’t been locked in a room all night. Like I didn’t kidnap him and his mother.
I stare down at the tiny fingers wrapped around mine.
Something shifts, like a crack in armor I didn’t know I had. Damn kid. Not the reaction I should be having. Definitely not.
“Let’s go,” I mutter, mostly to myself, and start walking down the hallway, dragging the kid with me.
He skips alongside me, no fear, no hesitation.
Current
Her face stops me cold first.
Flushed from sleep, a strand of hair sticking to her cheek.She looks different.Younger, like all the fight’s drained out of her, leaving something raw behind.
Govno.
I didn’t expect this; didn’t expect to see her like this—so exposed. My eyes trace the curve of her jaw, the way her lashes flutter as she stirs.
Raw. Real.And fucking gorgeous.
Enough.My grip tightens around the cup before I push the coffee across the marble counter.
Clara peels her face off the counter, hair a wild mess around her shoulders.
No makeup.
No weapons.
Just her, stripped bare of everything except that oversized shirt that keeps slipping off one shoulder.
