7. Laina #2
I sat up and swiped the hair out of my eyes, pointing to Gerald who’d dropped down on the ground on Brovish’s other side and laid his chin on Brovish’s thigh. “He likes you too much, don’t you think?”
Brovish stroked the creature. “There’s no too much when it comes to liking.”
We’d made it halfway back to the main building when Brovish stopped walking and turned to face me.
“You’ve really pulled your socks up this past week,” he said.
I blinked. “I’m sorry?”
“Your work. You’ve done well. Pulled your socks up.” He said it with such confidence that I couldn’t tell if he knew the phrase was wrong or if he thought that was how humans actually talked.
My mouth twitched. “Do you mean…bucked up? Or maybe stepped up?”
His brow furrowed. “Is that not the correct saying?”
“It’s close.”
“Close.” His face cratered, and he ran his fingers through his hair, messing it up. “Krem told me that one. He said humans use it when they wanted to tell someone how proud they were of their accomplishment.”
“Krem might’ve mixed up a few things.”
“He does that.” Brovish pulled out his notebook and flipped to a page near the back. I caught a glimpse of a list entitled Surface Phrases with dozens of entries, half of them crossed out. “I’m trying to learn. I don’t want to sound like…”
“Like what?”
“Too much of the kingdom. Too little of here.”
My chest cracked open. He wasn’t just learning phrases. He was trying to belong.
“I liked the way you said it,” I said. “It’s catchy.”
He glanced up from his notebook, his pen stilling. “You did?”
“It was earnest. And a little wrong. But I knew what you meant.” I reached over and touched the edge of his notebook. “You don’t have to sound like us. I think it’s better if you sound like you.”
His pointed ears darkened to deep green.
Sofia peeped, and I pulled my hand back.
“Thank you for saying that,” he said.
“You’re welcome.”
He tucked the notebook away, and we started walking again, but the air felt different between us. Warmer. Closer.
We stopped at the mossnibble enclosure, and he pulled out his notebook, flipping to a page near the middle. He wrote something in his small, careful handwriting, his pen moving across the paper.
“What are you jotting down?” I asked.
He hesitated, then turned the notebook my way.
Mossnibbles: Behavior stable. Nest-building continues. Stole Traig’s stylus. Possibly planning something bigger.
I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what else the mossnibbles could steal. I’d dragged my tote bag out of their nest two days ago.
“Can I see what you’ve added recently?” I asked.
He tightened his grip on the notebook, and I thought he’d say no. Then he held it out.
I took it carefully and opened to one of the earlier pages.
Gerald refused food this morning but accepted it when I sat with him. He knows the difference between being alone and being lonely. I think I’m learning it too.
I turned the page.
Duchess Filandra appeared upset with my posture during her grooming. I was slouching too much. She corrected me with her claws. She was right to do so.
Another page.
Steven chose Laina. Driftwhisps always know.
My pulse kicked up. I flipped forward and found my name again, this time in an entry from two days ago.
Laina spoke to Cooper after his exam. She didn’t know I was watching. She thanked him for being brave. I wonder if anyone has ever thanked her for the same thing.
My breath caught.
Brovish watched me with a reserved expression.
“You write about me,” I said.
“I write about everyone.”
“Not like this. I don’t see much about Krem or Traig here.”
“They’re not as interesting.”
He found me interesting?
His jaw worked. “You’re right, though. I don’t write about them like this.”
I turned the page and found yesterday’s date.
Sofia remained with Laina all day. At the end of the day, I told her it was alright. It was the right thing to say. I don’t know if it was the true thing. I miss having her on my shoulder.
I found it difficult to swallow the lump in my throat. I closed the notebook and held it out.
He took it, our fingers connecting.
“You’re wonderful with them,” I said. My voice sounded strange.
“With the creatures.”
“With everyone.”
His face darkened, and he tucked the notebook back into his pocket.
We walked back to the medical bay, Sofia purring against my neck. When we reached the worktable, Brovish pulled out intake files and spread them across the surface.
“I wanted to review these with you,” he said. “Make sure we’re aligned on protocols.”
I sat in the chair across from him and immediately regretted it. The table was too wide, the chairs too far apart. I leaned forward, squinting at the notes he’d written in the margins.
He glanced at me, then at the space between us.
Reaching over, he dragged my chair closer. The legs scraped across the floor, and I suddenly found myself close enough to see the details in his handwriting without straining.
I tried to focus on the files. Really, I did. But I was aware of every time he reached across me for a pen or another piece of paper, his thigh when he shifted his weight, and the heat of him that seemed to fill the space between us even when we weren’t touching.
He smelled like pine and fresh-cut grass.
“This one,” he said, tapping a file.
I leaned over to read and realized too late that he’d done the same thing. Our heads collided. I jerked back and he did too, and we stared at each other, too close and not close enough.
“Sorry,” I said.
“Me too.”
Sofia peeped, and I swore it sounded like laughter.
We went back to the files, but something had changed between us. Every time I reached for something, I was aware of where his hands were. Every time he moved, I tracked it.
By the time we’d finished, my heart raced at twice its normal speed, and I couldn’t remember half of what we’d reviewed.
“We should check on Abagail before you leave,” he croaked, his gaze on my mouth.
If he leaned closer…
No! We were at work. He was more or less my boss.
Telling myself all this did nothing to hold back my longing. I liked him. He was sweet and endearing and incredibly attractive.
“Abagail,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “You’re right. We should go check on her.” From what I’d seen, she was still resting a lot. Eating, but getting pickier about her feed.
We left the building, stepping out the back door, and walked to her enclosure.
“She looks…rounder,” I said, and gestured to my plus-sized figure. “I’m not one to talk.”
“You’re gorgeous.”
The words hit me sideways. My fingers tightened the top of the fence, splinters digging into my palms.
“I’m what?”
“I mean…” He shook his head. “No. I meant gorgeous. You are.”
Heat flooded my face, my neck, and my chest. I couldn’t look at him. If I did, I’d see whether he meant it the way it sounded, and I wasn’t ready for that yet.
Maybe he liked me too.
“Thank you,” I said.
My brain spiraled. He’d noticed me.
What was I supposed to do about that?
“Has her diet been changed?” I choked out.
He studied Abagail, who lay near the far edge of the fence, gazing toward the dense woods beyond. “I don’t think so, but I’ll check.”
“It could be bloat or nothing.”
We entered the pen, and I carefully approached her, though she didn’t act upset about us visiting. She sniffed my hand and looked toward the woods again while I ran my fingers along her sides, carefully palpating her belly.
“Not bloat,” I said, frowning. “It almost feels like…”
“What?”
“Are the creatures neutered?”
He blinked. “Yes. We’re required to do so before they can be adopted. Your government wants to control the population.”
“Makes sense.” I studied Abagail some more. “I’ll keep an eye on her.”
We left the pen and finished rounds, stopping at the supply shed.
As the sun started its descent, the sky turned amber. Brovish went inside and came back out with a small package.
He held it out. “I picked this up in town yesterday.”
I took it, confused, and unwrapped the paper.
Tea. The same loose-leaf blend I’d mentioned last week. Blackberry and mint. I’d said I missed it from the shop near my old clinic.
I looked up. “You remembered?”
“I did.”
It wasn’t a big moment. It was enormous.
“Thank you.” I held it to my chest, eager to taste some in the morning.
The facility emptied. Drogar left first, whistling something off-key. Krem followed, waving as he passed my open office door. Traig muttered something about supply orders and disappeared toward the parking lot. Greth left without a word, which was his version of a warm goodbye.
I grabbed my bag and headed for Bertha. I was halfway across the parking lot when I heard footsteps behind me.
“Laina.”
I turned. Brovish stood in the open doorway, backlit by the light from the entryway, his hair loose around his shoulders.
“Would you stay a bit longer?” he asked.