Brovish #2
She speaks to creatures born hours ago like she already knows them.
I held it out again before I could decide if it was too much.
She read it twice. Handed it back. Her fingers trembled, and I felt that tremor deep in my ribs.
The temperature dropped past what the blankets could manage alone.
Laina shifted, drawing her knees up. “It’s getting cold.”
“Yes.” I wanted to offer my warmth, but I couldn’t find the words for it that didn’t sound like I was asking for more than body heat.
She shifted again, her back angling toward me. Not quite touching.
I curved my arm across the space between us slowly enough to make it a question.
She tucked herself back against my chest and pulled my arm the rest of the way around her. “This is warmer.”
“Much warmer,” I said, and felt her laugh against my ribs.
Sofia wormed into the space between our legs, burrowing her head into the blankets.
“She has opinions about this,” Laina said.
“She always has them. She just waits for us to catch up.”
The world outside had gone completely still. No rain now, or wind. Just the cave, the breathing of the animals, and Sofia’s steady warmth against my leg.
“Some nights I wonder if what I am here is enough.” I hadn’t planned to say anything like this, but the dark brought out my soul. “I thought I might be too used to kingdom ways. I search for surface words when the kingdom ones come faster and that makes me feel awkward.”
She ran her fingers across my knuckles.
“You had a name for Cooper before you knew his wing would heal,” she said.
“You reorganized the syringes so I could find what I needed. You wash my mug every evening and put it back where I’ll find it in the morning.
” She pulled in a breath and released it, her back expanding against my chest. “You wrote down that creatures want to be seen, and then you went and saw all of them. You’re not in the wrong sized room. You built the room to fit who you are.”
Sofia sparked once and resettled.
“I keep thinking about the clinic,” Laina said, after a while. “What I was keeping by staying. Whether I’d stopped growing or just stopped noticing I’d stopped.”
“You carry your father with you everywhere,” I said. “That’s not staying.”
“That’s exactly it,” she said. “I like talking with you, Brovish.”
“Speaking and being with you makes me feel…”
After a pause, she said, “Makes you feel what?”
“Complete.”
“Ah. Yes. Me too.”
Her breathing lengthened after that. Slowed.
I stayed awake.
The twins breathed. Abagail breathed. Sofia’s small body rose and fell against my leg. A few strands of Laina’s hair lay across my jaw and her hand still covered mine. I lay in the dark, taking inventory because I wanted to remember.
I checked the twins twice during the night and found their breathing steady. Abagail rested while they nursed.
Laina slept, safe and warm in my arms.
Was it wrong of me to want this forever? Maybe, but I couldn’t hold the feelings back. They were too big. Too wonderful. They kept pressing against my insides, determined to break through.
I closed my eyes and listened to the world around me until I fell asleep.
The light at the tarp seam started graying, finding the twins first, pale shapes against Abagail’s darker fleece.
Then Laina’s hair spread across my arm, her weight secure against my chest like she’d been sleeping there for years instead of hours.
Her fingers wrapped around my forearm. Our legs tangled.
Sofia lay somewhere by our feet, radiating satisfaction.
I counted Laina’s breaths. The small sounds she made when she shifted closer in her sleep. The exact moment her breathing changed, and I knew she was waking.
She went still first, then lifted her head.
Our faces were close. Her hair was messed from sleep, her cheek creased from my shirt.
“Morning,” I said.
Her mouth curved, and every part of my heart answered it.
I rolled her onto her back because I’d been thinking about kissing her since I’d opened my eyes. She made a soft surprised sound when I did it, but cupped my shoulders and pulled me closer.
Her mouth was sleep warm, and she tasted like the tea we’d shared. When I lifted my head, she made a disappointed noise that I wanted to collect and keep.
“That’s a nice way to wake up,” she said.
I could’ve stayed there and kissed her again before rolling aside, but we had to get going. The others would be arriving at the facility soon, and they’d be worried if we weren’t there.
I rolled off her and she sat up, the vet in her taking over. She crawled over to Abagail and the twins before I’d fully untangled myself from the blankets.
The larger twin had risen to wobbly feet and was sniffing the cave wall.
“Look at you,” Laina said, crouching beside her. “You’re standing already.”
The twin headbutted Laina’s palm. Sofia flew over to supervise from Laina’s shoulder. Abagail raised her head and made the low rumbling sound that meant I am content where I am. She peered at me with what I’d swear was approval.
I pulled out my notebook.
Abagail is well. The twins are well. Laina is…amazing. Sofia has claimed authority over us all.
I paused, then added, Laina woke in my arms this morning. I would like her to do so again.
Laina spoke in a low voice to the larger twin. It headbutted her again and Laina laughed, the sound filling the small cave.
I wrote the last line before closing the notebook.
Home isn’t where I’m from. It’s who I’m with.
After tucking the notebook into my back pocket, I went to help Laina pack our supplies for the journey back.