I was old, not hot.
Shaking away the thoughts and deciding to be content with the night and morning of cuddles I’d received, I climbed off the couch, ignoring my cracking knees, and followed after Oakley.
Dragons didn’t really age, at least not in any significant way like humans did, because our healing abilities were vast. But that didn’t mean my bones didn’t creak every now and again before that healing kicked in, and after sitting in the same position for so many hours, yeah… creaky joints were a given. But the soreness would go away shortly, so I wasn’t worried about it.
By the time I made it to the back room, Oakley had already disengaged the magical ward and was working on unlocking the door. They heard me approach, obviously because they were a dragon too, and said, “I don’t sense anything unusual from the room, so I’m going in.”
I bit my tongue to stop myself from suggesting that I go in first. Oakley was a trained fighter, a trained spy, and had training in fighting, weapons, and a shit-ton of other things, and probably a lot I didn’t know about from their time in that damn cult. They knew how to sense magic, and they knew how to determine how cautious they needed to be when entering a room.
I’d learned early on that questioning Oak’s abilities and trying to protect them was a surefire way to get on their bad side. And holy hell, being on their bad side was… not fun at all. They couldhold a grudge like nobody’s business—a trait they got from their dad.
It had taken me a long time to accept that they were a capable and independent person who didn’t need coddling and certainly didn’t need me questioning every single action they took.
But that didn’t make letting them take the lead on things… less difficult.
I hated it.
I didn’t want them in danger. Ever.
But this was a part of learning how to be true partners and not turn into a dragon that locked their loved one away in a tower far away from other people.
So I gave them a nod. “Alright. I’m right behind you.”
Oakley looked over their shoulder and sent me an appreciative smile. They knew it was hard for me to take a step back, and they appreciated that I tried.
I’d take that smile aimed my way any time of day.
Once the door was unlocked, Oak opened it, peeked inside, then pushed it open all the way and stepped through the doorway. “What’s going on, Porter?”
“Can I please, please, please use a real toilet?” As I stepped through the door, I saw the man stare at the bucket in disgust. “Please? I… I can’t be stuck in this tiny room with that… stink.”
Oakley glanced at me, then sighed. “Fine, but the chains stay on.”
“Right, sure. Makes sense. Thank you.”
I was surprised by the eagerness in the man’s voice after how nasty he’d been last night, but I supposed needing the bathroom put him in his place.
Oakley went about taking the half-cyclops man to the bathroom, and since they had things well in hand, I went to the other bathroom to use the facilities and brush my teeth before I headed to the kitchen to start breakfast.
Oak showed up a while later, took one look at what I was doing, and groaned. “Oh my Mother, you’re amazing. Thank you for cooking.”
I shrugged. Pancakes were no big deal to make, but I knew they were one of Oak’s weaknesses. They practically drooled every time I made them—which I’d started doing at least once a week since I realized. “Do you want apple pancakes, chocolate chip, or plain?”
“Ugh, you always ask the hard questions.”
That made me grin at them. “Uh-huh. So…?”
“Chocolate chip. Obviously.”
“Obviously.” I snorted. “Go shower and get yourself ready for the day while I finish up. I’ll shower after we eat.”
“You sure? I can help if you want.”
“You are never, ever, ever allowed to cook in the kitchen when we’re sharing a place. You know this rule.”
They sighed dramatically and placed a hand to their chest like I’d shot them there. “You’re killing me. It was one time.”
“You caught the entire kitchen on fire while making scrambled eggs. I still don’t even know how you did it.”
