Chapter 2 #3
“A trout,” I said gravely. “They live in the rivers here.” I’d grown up hunting them in the summer to preserve with smoke.
“Do they have teeth?” Rosa leaned in, her breath warm against my arm.
“Some do.” I added jagged lines to the fish’s mouth, and she giggled.
“It looks scary!”
“Good.” I slid the paper toward her. “Color it red. Like a monster fish.”
She obeyed, chattering about the time she’d seen a goldfish at the pet store. “Mama says I can’t have one because they’re too espensib to take care of, but I promise I’d feed it every day, and they’d be like a friend for me!”
I didn’t answer, my throat suddenly thick. What was Sofia’s life like, that a goldfish was too expensive? I found myself aching to care for and protect these two females from life’s hurdles.
Sofia appeared beside us, her scent sharp with curiosity and something else—wariness? Fear? I kept my expression neutral as she set down my skillet and a fresh cup of coffee. “You two seem to be having fun,” she said, her voice carefully light.
Rosa didn’t even look up. “Dakvaar’s drawing with me, Mama! Look, I made the dog blue!”
Sofia’s gaze flicked between us, lingering on the way Rosa’s small body was pressed against my side. I could smell her tension, the faintest hint of fear beneath the warmth of her usual scent. My Kteer snarled, urging me to reach for her, to vow to her I’d never hurt them.
They’re not yours to protect.
I forced a nod at Sofia. “She’s very talented. A blue dog is pushing the boundaries of color theory.”
A flicker of something—relief?—crossed her face before she masked it with a smile. “I always knew she was a genius.” She hesitated, then added, “Your food’s getting cold.”
Right. The game tomorrow. Coach would have my hide if I was sluggish.
I shoveled a bite of skillet into my mouth, listening with half an ear as Rosa launched into a story about her favorite cartoon. The eggs were perfect—fluffy, seasoned just right—but my focus kept drifting to the way Sofia’s fingers twitched at her apron, to the way her eyes never quite left us.
I should leave. I had to leave.
But when Rosa grabbed my sleeve, her voice breathless—”Can you draw a dragon next?”—how could I refuse?
I picked up the black marker with my right hand as I kept eating with my left. “What kind of dragon?”
“The biggest kind!” She spread her arms wide, nearly toppling off the stool.
I caught her elbow instinctively, steadying her. Her weight was nothing, her bones fragile beneath my grip. Mine to protect.
No.
I drew the dragon, its wings spanning the width of the paper, its scales jagged and fierce. Rosa clapped her hands. “It’s perfect!”
Sofia’s voice cut through the moment. “Dakvaar, it’s almost nine.”
I glanced at the clock. Shit. I was late.
I gathered the drawings, stacking them carefully before handing them to Rosa. “For you.”
Her eyes went wide. “All of them?”
“All of them.”
She hugged the stack to her chest, then—before I could react—threw her arms around my neck. “Thank you, Dakvaar!”
I froze. Her scent—sweet, warm, innocent—filled my lungs. My arms lifted on their own, hesitating just above her back before I forced them down.
Not yours.
Sofia’s voice was tight. “Rosa, mija, let the man go to work.”
The kitling pulled back, pouting. “But I like him. I want to draw with him again!”
Gods below, I liked her too. I cleared my throat. “I have a game tomorrow, so I will not return to Bramblewood until Saturday evening. But…” I forced myself to stand. “I will come draw with you on Sunday, Rosa.”
Sofia’s sharp scent of surprise told me she knew Sunday wasn’t one of my regular days.
Yes, I normally enjoyed sleeping in on the weekends, then having a leisurely meal around eleven…
but I would wake early, and come into the café, and sit for hours to color with this little treasure, if it meant her mother didn’t have to pay for childcare and she wouldn’t have to sit in the kitchen and watch videos. Of course I would!
But before Sofia could say something—gods forbid, telling me not to be a part of her daughter’s life—I tapped a claw on the packet of animal sketches. “Will you color these for me? Try to stay within the lines and make the dragon many colors?”
“All the colors of the rainbow!” Rosa vowed reverently.
“Good.” I gathered my coat and reached for my wallet. “And you draw me a dog. You can trace mine, but I want you to draw one for me so I can color it on Sunday.”
She nodded eagerly, clutching the papers to her, ignoring the cooling sausage. Without looking at Sofia, I slid another hundred under my empty plate, then turned to the door.
“Dakvaar…”
I paused, allowing her time to say what she needed to say. Her brows were drawn in, her gaze flicking between me and her daughter…but she didn’t say anything else. So I nodded and shrugged into the coat.
“Have a good day, Sofia.”
“Good luck in tomorrow’s game, Dakvaar.”
It wasn’t an offer of affection; it wasn’t even a sign of regard.
But her wishes warmed me all the way to the ice rink, and I played better than I had in weeks.