“The fuck?” I asked as I watched him walk out of the kitchen.
My gaze returned to Brutus and I already found him staring at me. I just pointed in the direction that my brother stormed off to and shrugged. I expected some sort of a response. Maybe a shrug as well. Maybe a little head nod. Maybe even a small grin, since my brother was being fucking ridiculous.
But he just stared.
He was such a dichotomy, that man. I lifted my hand mindlessly to my cheek, feeling where his calloused thumb had slid across my skin. I rubbed my fingertips against the area, trying to return the normal sensations back to my skin. Brutus was all rough and tumble. Big and bad, and scarred, and mountainous, and scary. However, on the inside, he was soft and malleable. Easy to just… everything, you know? Easy to talk with. Easy to walk with. Easy to get him to snicker. Very easy to upset him. Easy to get under his skin.
Easy to get him to touch you.
“They’re fed,” Brutus said.
I pulled myself out of a trance I didn’t even realize I slipped into when I heard his voice. And when I gazed up, I saw him towering over me, his shadow cloaking my entire form.
Christ, the man was massive.
“What?” I asked.
His brow furrowed and he tilted his head. “Everyone’s gotten their plate. You ready for yours?”
He held out a plate and I expected it to be empty so I could dish up my food. But instead, it was already filled with the steaming hot food. I volleyed my eyes back to him a couple of times before I took the food from him, my heart warming in a way I wasn’t familiar with.
“Thanks,” I said.
He just nodded. “Wanna drink?”
I just reached for the fridge with my free hand and opened it for him.
“All right, let’s see,” he said as he dipped down and practically jammed himself into the damned thing. “We’ve got Coke. We’ve got some water. There’s a Gatorade back here. I could pour you some pickle juice?—”
I barked with laughter. “I should’ve put pickle juice in the noodles while you weren’t looking.”
He reared back and up enough to glare at me over the top edge of the open fridge door. “You wouldn’t dare defile noodles in such a way.”
I batted my eyes innocently. “Whatever do you mean, Big Guy?”
He snickered as he dipped back into the fridge, and then he emerged with the spoils of his finding: a large Gatorade that was half frozen in the bottle and a couple cans of Coke.”
I reached for one of the Cokes before I eased the refrigerator door closed.
“Thanks,” I said as I took one.
“You can have the other as well, if you’re still thirsty after that first one,” he said as he picked up his massive bowl of food with his other hand. “The Gatorade will be enough for me.”
Wait a second, were we… eating together?
My toes tingled. “I appreciate that. I’ll let you know if I need it.”
We walked together for a little while, after checking that the oven and all of the burners on the stove were off. We walked through the safehouse together, and not a word passed between us. That was the thing about Brutus. He could talk, sure. But the silence with him was always comfortable.
Silence was never comfortable for me.
I found that I enjoyed it when I was with him.
“Where are you eating?” he asked.
I shrugged as we stopped at the door to my room. “I just figured in here, unless you had another idea?”
I waited for him to tell me that I could come and eat in his room. That we could take our food out back. I thought about Doc and Liz, their moonlit dinners beneath the stars. I wasn’t sure when I had started wanting things like that, but I’d go for a dose of it with Brutus.
