“It’s time to get up buddy,” I groan, despite not knowing what time it is or if it’s even light out. If I’m awake, it’s time to get moving. I learned a long time ago that staying in bed, even if it’s an hour before my alarm, is a recipe for disaster.
Oscar mews pathetically and snuggles his face into his paws. It’s so cute, I decide to stay a little longer while I work on the rest of the day’s to-do list.
I’m happy to see my phone charged overnight—so at least there is power going to the outlets. It’s 6:23 a.m., which feels criminal to my body that’s two hours behind.
I open the notes app and look at the next things on the list.
Get the refuse out of the shop (Hunks Haul Junk coming at 10AM)
Find Laundromat (you only have two pairs of panties left)
You still have a schedule to maintain, don’t slack on your self care
Refrigerator?
Selfie at the front of the shop—before pictures all around!
I flap my lips and put the phone aside.
“I’m surprised you—”
I scream at the Scottish-tinged voice and Oscar scrambles from the bed in a flight of fur and claws. I hiss at the pain in my side from his harried departure and glare at Bastian as I try to calm myself down.
Deep breath. It’s just the dragon.
He’s cross-legged in the ring of books, and something is protruding from his back. He glances over at me, his pale gold eyes glowing in the darkness.
“Forget about me so easily?” he asks with a vicious smirk.
“If only you’d disappear as such,” I mutter as I roll out of the air hammock and land on my hands and knees.
“My ears aren’t ornamental,” he says.
I glare at him harder, noticing the golden pointed tips of his ears pushing through his dark hair. My eyes snag on his horns. Jagged and short, they barely protrude from his hair.
“What happened to your head?” I ask.
He raises an eyebrow. Or maybe both rise, I don’t know, I can only see him in profile. But he doesn’t move from his meditative state.
