Now, I’m stuffed full of sushi while Fang gently rinses violet hair dye from my head. At the same time, he keeps his Alpha purr going, which makes the experience unique and enjoyable.
We’re both naked in my shower, but what we’re doing is different type of intimacy than sex. He keeps his hands in my hair, while my hands stay on his chest or above.
“You know,” he adds conversationally, shampooing my hair. “Almost every tattoo I have was when I hit a low point in my brain.”
“Really? You have so many.”
He barks out a laugh and tugs on my hair playfully. “Exactly. And I can tell you where my head was at and why I picked the particular design. I got my tattoo of Eevie right after she passed. I wanted something to solidify her memory with, and everythingfelt too intense. The throb of the needle kept my mind focused. And when there’s not a tattoo, I’m at the guitar or the piano. I try to create.”
“You mean, you don’t run away, cry, tear up blankets, and curl up into a ball on the floor?” I tease lightly.
Fang brings the showerhead to my hair, and I sigh as the water pressure soothes my scalp.
“I’ve done all four,” he murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to my mating gland, which makes me shiver. “Now, let me take care of you, sweetheart.”
And after the day I’ve had, it’s hard to argue with him.
He still doesn’t comment on my nest, which I appreciate, even when we enter my bedroom again.
I decide to let my hair air dry, despite the frizziness that will come with it.
Fang’s words help. They’re kind, understanding, and he makes it clear he sees me. He has his own version of spiraling, but he’s learned better coping mechanisms than I have.
I still don’t feel right, though.
I know I have to go back to the rescue, and I can’t keep having these moments where I run away.
I’m so tired of being scared.
“Your scent has changed, you know,” Fang adds conversationally. We end up in my front room as he takes out the nesting blankets from their packaging.
“What do you mean?”
“The three of us could scent you from outside the apartment. We could sense your distress and panic. It was fucking horrifying,” he adds, unfolding a gorgeous emerald green velour blanket. I eye it with delight, already anticipating the sensation on my body. “Ivan made me promise not to break your door down. Apparently, you wouldn’t have liked it.” He shoots me a smirk.
“I’d been more worried about the security deposit, honestly.”
He waves his hand. “We would have crossed that bridge when we came to it. But,” he adds, “you’re smelling like yourself again. And it makes me incredibly happy. Like, ridiculously happy. If you could see inside my brain right now, you’d probably throw up, for more than one reason.”
I laugh harder than I have in at least a week. I laugh so hard that tears fill my eyes and stream down my cheeks, emotions mixing until I let out a hysterical sob.
Then, Fang is pulling me into a hug and letting out a massive purr.
“I miss…purr…parties,” I hiccup into his chest, and he laughs.
“Sorry,” he says fondly. “I can only offer my own purr, baby. I’m sure you’ll get more soon.”
A knock interrupts my sniffles, and a voice calls out from behind the door.
“Maeve? Fang?”
Leaving Fang’s embrace, I unlock the door and yank it open with a fierceness. I immediately throw myself into Ivan’s arms, who was waiting to catch me.
“Hi,” he whispers into my hair.
Wrapping my arms around him, I inhale his scent greedily.
Apples in the summer, the happiest memories of my life…
