He pulled back the curtain and saw me cradling my hand and then his gaze lowered to my bleeding leg.
“What happened?!”
He was at my side immediately, checking me over for any other injuries. He grabbed a clean cloth and applied it to my cut. Then he held out his hand for me to place my bruised one in his.
His touch was comforting. The warmth of his hand on mine made me feel all fuzzy inside.
Then his focus drifted to his tools on the floor. “Were you attempting to carve this bone?”
“Yeah,” I admitted.
“Why? Do you want to learn how to do it?”
Did I? Not really. So why was I doing this?
Then it dawned on me exactly why I thought this was a good idea and I wanted to kick myself for it.
I ran an embarrassed hand down my face as I confessed, “I thought you might like it if I learned how. I thought I could carve you something for Valentine’s Day.”
I couldn’t believe I was doing this again. I was trying to mold myself into the person I thought Brexl would want me to be, and we weren’t even really mated.
“Do you want to learn?” He repeated his question.
I didn’t.
“No,” I sighed.
“Then I do not wish for you to learn, either.” He sat down in front of me, but did not release my hand from his. Instead, he rubbed his thumb along the top of my hand in a comforting gesture.
“So me making you a bone carving wouldn’t be a good gift?” I had to ask. I needed this moment to sink into my soul so I wouldn’t do this again.
“No. Bone carving is a thing that brings me joy. I like the activity more than the object that results.”
That made sense.
“And if I learned how to do this hobby, it wouldn’t make you like me any more than you do now?”
The only way to break this bad habit was for me to hear from Brexl himself that this wasn’t what he wanted.
“No. You are perfect just the way you are.” His hand reached up and caressed my ear as he pushed back my hair. “Please don’t change.”
Our eyes met, and I knew from the look on his face that he really meant what he said. He did not want me to change, and I didn’t want to change either.
“I won’t,” I whispered sheepishly.
“Good,” he smiled.
“Do you not feel perfect the way you are?”
“I do and I don’t. I like who I am, but I didn’t have an easy childhood. I learned how to be someone else’s version of perfect to keep the peace, and it’s a habit that has stuck with me ever since,” I explained.
Brexl furrowed his brow and said, “whoever made you feel that way was a fool. You are perfect to me.”
“Th-thank you.” Brexl’s words had hit a weak spot in my heart, and I was suddenly feeling very vulnerable and embarrassed. I needed some time alone to collect my thoughts. A walk around the clearing might clear my head.
“I guess I better go find you a better gift then, huh?” I stood up and Brexl released my hand.
He nodded, and I grabbed a gathering basket and headed out the door.
