Chapter 2
Chapter Two
MEADOW
Miles’s apartment wasn’t what I’d expected.
He was young, and I’d gotten the sense that he was single, so I’d assumed it would be filled with the kind of bare bones Ikea furniture and woefully underutilized space that young bachelors were so infamous for.
A TV perched on a milk crate in front of an old sofa, with a thrifted end table to stack empty cans of soda on.
It was definitely not that.
The sweet scent of warm cinnamon and gingerbread hit my nose as we wandered in, probably one of these scented plug-ins. An artfully decorated tree twinkled merrily in the corner, heavy with ornaments, and most of the available surface spaces were adorned with holiday-themed decor.
“You live here by yourself?” I asked, sinking down onto the couch, clutching the coat I’d just been so kindly gifted to my chest.
“Yeah,” he confirmed. He was turned away from me, but I could still see the dark blush that had washed over his skin.
I wanted to tease him for short-circuiting over one tiny kiss on the cheek, to the point it seemed he could barely speak in complete sentences, but it seemed cruel after he’d been so generous.
And anyway, it wasn’t so strange. Humans were always getting embarrassed over the most inconsequential things.
“Who’s Sammy?” I wondered, gesturing toward the pair of red stockings pinned to the wall.
“Oh, Sammy’s my cat.” That explained the fish bones and mice embroidered around the top. “She’ll come barreling in once I open up a can of her food,” he promised, grinning a little.
“I didn’t know you had a cat,” I answered neutrally.
I liked cats, but they usually didn’t like me.
Animals were smart, while humans often weren’t.
Particularly because humans tended to become infatuated with me very quickly.
Especially young men. Not that I could complain about that.
If I was opposed to the attention, I’d use a different sort of glamour and appear as a senior citizen or someone unremarkable looking, as some faeries I knew did.
But I enjoyed looking like myself. Just without the wings and pointed ears, since I wanted to stay hidden.
My hair, I could pass off as artificial.
“She was a stray,” he said, and the affection for her in his voice was evident.
It had been a long time since I’d interacted with someone who was so genuine.
And he was cute, in a quiet and unassuming kind of way.
Behind his thick glasses, his eyes were light and warm, like amber.
His hair was a similar tawny shade. But really it was his aura that had piqued my interest. Pure kindness and uninhibited enthusiasm.
Maybe too much enthusiasm. But there was also a shade of sadness there.
He was lonely. Maybe that was why I hadn’t tried too hard to talk him out of his plan of saving me from freezing to death overnight.
Not that my kind could perish so easily.
“Actually, I used to have a roommate,” he continued on, probably because I hadn’t said anything for a handful of moments.
I’d noticed, in my many years of being around them, that most humans were anxious to fill stretches of silence.
If I needed a bit of time to contemplate, they usually worried that I was annoyed or upset. “My best friend.”
“And where is your best friend now?”
“He moved out and got married.” I detected a hint of jealousy in his voice, but not the malicious kind.
“I see. I hope bringing me home didn’t ruin any plans you had for your evening,” I added to change the subject.
“No!” he denied quickly, moving into the small kitchen to unpack the bag of takeout boxes. “Actually… I haven’t really had visitors in such a long time, it’s nice having someone to talk to. That’s, um… kind of pathetic, right?”
“No,” I answered. The insecurity in his voice was so palpable it was nearly painful. I had a hard time believing someone so earnest could have such a hard time making connections, but clearly it was a sore spot for him. “I’m happy to be here.”
I watched as he pulled a little can from a cabinet, tapping his fingertips over the top before popping it under an electronic can opener.
As promised, a furry feline streaked into the room, trilling out a round of joyous meows.
She froze when her yellow eyes landed on me, her body language instantly cautious.
Her tail curled around her back legs, and she let out a low hiss.
“Sammy?” Miles said her name in surprise, leaning back into the living room. “Did she hiss at you?” he asked me, eyes wide.
“I probably just startled her,” I said diplomatically. I couldn’t blame her for sensing something was off about me. She gave me another mistrustful look before flipping her tail up at me and bounding into the kitchen for her meal.
“That’s so weird,” Miles remarked, once he’d finished feeding her and returning to the living room with a plate. “I don’t think she’s ever hissed at anyone.”
Shrugging, I raised my hands in an I don’t know gesture and tried to look innocent.
“Um, anyway, I left a plate and fork and stuff out on the counter so just… take whatever you want. I always order way too much.”
Obliging mostly because I knew he’d insist, I made a small plate and came back to the couch.
“So, Miles…” I started, spearing a honey-coated shrimp. “What were your plans tonight? Before I came into the picture, I mean.”
He cleared his throat, glancing away from me. “Uh, I mean, we can do whatever you want, really. I have a bunch of streaming subs. Uh, or if you just want to be alone and rest, I can just go into my room, and—”
“No,” I cut him off. “Unless you’d be more comfortable that way.”
“I wouldn’t!”
“Then let’s just get to know each other,” I suggested, trying to suppress a smile at the somewhat panicked tone of his voice and the way he shoveled rice into his mouth to give him extra time to answer. “Why don’t you start by telling me about yourself?”
I sat next to him on the sofa, but like on the bench, he made sure to keep a reasonable distance between us.
It was cute how shy and proper he was. Not what I was used to from men at all.
The way he looked at me and avoided touching me, it was like I was a priceless treasure.
I couldn’t help but feel endeared to him.
“There’s not really much to tell.”
“I’m sure that’s not true,” I said, shifting into a cross-legged position. When my knee bumped him, he glanced down nervously at where we’d touched. “We can just watch a movie if you’d like, but I’m curious about my hero.”
“Hero?” he repeated, sounding shocked. And that sweet blush was back, washing over his face like a tidal wave, his brown eyes wide behind his glasses. “No, I’m not anything like that.”
“I don’t know,” I said thoughtfully, blinking my eyelashes as I inhaled deeply. “A lot of other guys walked past me in the park, and they didn’t stop to see if I was okay or needed a place to stay.”
“Well, I… I mean, that’s just…”
“And that makes you special, Miles. At least as far as I’m concerned.”
“Oh.” He swallowed his mouthful of noodles before clearing his throat. “Okay. Thank you.”
“So what do you do for work?” I asked. That should have been easy for him to answer, at least. I hoped getting him talking would loosen him up a bit.
The more shy and sweet he showed himself to be, the more I wanted him to open up.
It was odd to feel so curious and invested toward someone I’d just met, but I felt oddly drawn to him.
“I just work in IT for a telecommunications company,” he said.
“I take care of the network configuration and manage the infrastructure…” He trailed off, looking a bit sheepish.
As he nervously fidgeted with the fork in his hand, I noticed he had really nice hands.
Wide palms with strong fingers that would probably be good for a lot more than typing on a computer. “This is boring, I know.”
“It’s not.”
“What about you?”
“Work?”
“Yeah. I mean, do you work? It’s okay if you don’t,” he added quickly.
“I’ve worked a lot of odd jobs here and there,” I said honestly. “Nothing serious or particularly impactful. I don’t usually stay in one place long enough for a career.”
“Oh, right,” he remembered. “You said you’re more of a wanderer? What did you mean by that?”
“I just don’t like staying in one place for too long. I get bored.”
“Have you really moved around that much?” he asked, sounding surprised. “I mean, you barely look like you’re into your 20s.”
I wanted to suggest that he multiply that number by ten, and then some, but I only smiled and dunked my egg roll into duck sauce. “I’m not nearly as young as I look.”
“Really? How old are you?”
I’d been asked that so many times I’d lost count, but outright lying wasn’t exactly my style.
“How old are you?” I inquired, and he winced a tiny bit, like he thought maybe he’d offended me by asking.
“I’m 23,” he answered. He looked a bit hesitant before continuing on. “Are you younger or older than I am?”
“Older.”
“Wow! You, uh, must have a great skincare routine!” he joked, looking impressed and somewhat infatuated.
He had a great face, sort of boyish and innocent but still handsome.
And very nice lips. I wondered if he’d be a good kisser.
The more dominant part of my brain insisted only one way to find out, while the smaller and more logical part was sure he’d have a heart attack and die if I sprung that experiment on him without warning.
“Genetics, actually,” I said casually. If only he knew. I had a sister that was over half a century older than me and still accrued admirers everywhere she went.
“Your family must be pretty good looking,” he said, then winced more heavily this time. “I mean, I’m not saying that you’re good looking. I mean, you are! I’m not hitting on you or anything, I swear,” he ended, looking miserable.