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“Put him down. This is the third time you’ve tried to eat him in an hour.” Ragnar has no shame as he spits my pet out, unceremoniously throwing him to the ground. I barely have enough time to catch the alien chinchilla before he hits the asphalt. Annoyed now, I cuddle Floofy close to my chest earning me a growl. Playfully I growl back, mocking his favorite response. It backfires.
I nearly choke on my laughter when Ragnar’s look goes from playful to lust filled in the span of a second, his pupils blown wide open. A spear of arousal hits my core, reminding me of the promise I made to him. To his credit, he hasn’t said a word about it or pressured me.
Like the gentleman he is, he is letting me set our pace. I used to value verbal communication with past partners. With Ragnar? It is wholly unnecessary. We hardly say anything with words but say everything with our bodies and expressions. Right now, my body wants him. Badly.
Shaking my head, I break our eye contact. As much as I want him, I am also scared. This is new territory. What if we aren’t even compatible. A blush heats my cheeks. Hiding my face in Floofy’s fur I head straight for the next house that looks mostly intact. Coward. Slithers through my mind, and I can’t disagree with the thought. I am a coward, running from Ragnar’s desire and my own.
Part of me wants to pretend I never promised Ragnar that we would be together, that I was desperate to get him to cooperate. I was desperate, but the words were born of my own desire. To blame it on anything else would be a lie, but that doesn’t mean I’m ready to face the music…. not yet. As much as I want him, the demons of my past haven’t quite released me from their grip.
Forcing myself to focus on the task at hand, I climb the short stone steps to the porch of the nearest home. The crunch of leaves and dust is loud to my ears, as is the creaking of the door when I push it open. Sadness fills me for the thousandth time today as I step into the remnants of someone’s life.
Pushing back the sadness for a moment, I watch Floofy as he sniffs the air. When he doesn’t react, I know the home is safe. We came up with this method when we realized that Ragnar can’t be in the homes and watching the street at the same time. As loathe as he is to let Floofy help, the little rat comes in handy.
The inside is quaint and dusty from disuse. The living room is filled with overstuffed furniture, the kind that makes you want to sit and lounge. All of them are facing a busted T.V that rests inside an entertainment center. Pictures litter the shelves along with other baubles. I purposely avoid looking at the faces, not wishing to intrude upon the memories that were left behind.
I am methodical, searching each room of the home for something useful. Anything I find is stuffed in my rapidly filling backpack. Clothes, canned goods to eat once we stop to rest, knives, batteries and tools are all placed in my pack. I send up a silent prayer as I comb through drawers, a prayer for thanks that the house is well stocked but also a prayer for the souls of those who once lived here. Whose things I am rummaging through so that I can survive.
As methodical as I am, I must eventually confront the elephant in the room. The bathrooms. I leave them until last, so that my disappointment doesn’t spoil my entire search. So that I am not so blinded by sadness that I might miss something vital. This home has three of them. Turning from the kitchen, I make my way to the first with Floofy happily trailing me.
The first bathroom is a half-bath off of the living room. A quick search shows nothing more than extra towels. With a disappointed huff I make my way to the next one. It is much bigger with a double vanity and a bathtub. For a moment I consider trying to take a bath. It is a luxury I took for granted before. Now I am acutely aware of my own smell. How Ragnar could want me with this level of stink, I’m not sure. It is a fantasy though, because the chance of the plumbing working is almost zero.
Guiltily, I do take advantage of the toilet though. Most of the stores we went to had intact bathrooms, but we were always exposed. Not to mention I got verry little privacy with my gigantic protector always standing near me. It easily makes it to the top of the list for embarrassing things. Not that he cared. Once I’m done, I cautiously try the sink. Unsurprisingly it gives a spurt of icky black water before it goes dry.
Done with the distractions, I get down on the tile so I can better see beneath the cabinets. Tempering my hope, I throw them open. Shock makes me freeze, my heart pounding a mile a minute as I register what I am looking at. Shelf after shelf full of supplies makes me want to weep with joy. Climbing to my feet I run back into one of the bedrooms to grab a backpack I saw before dashing back to my treasure trove, almost afraid it will disappear before my very eyes.
As fast as I can, I begin to shove things into the new bag. Tampons, pads, Tylenol, band aids and soap flies into the bag as fast as I can grab it. I go to grab another handful before I freeze, staring at the small tubes that were hidden behind the other items. My hand begins to shake as tears start to stream down my face with blossoming hope.
Almost afraid to believe it, I snatch up one of the tubes to bring it closer to my face. Tears blur my vision as my hand begins to shake. Blinking rapidly, I try to clear the mirage from my eyes, refusing to believe that the letters upon the tube spell what I think they spell. Antibiotic ointment. More tears fall from my eyes as I look at the expiration date.
When the numbers finally come into focus through the tears, I let out a scream. All my pent-up worry and fear release with my cry, pouring from me in the form of tears and gasping prayers of thanks. A snarl from outside tells me that I was too loud, worrying Ragnar.
“I found it! I FOUND IT!!!!” I shout, getting louder with each word. Unlike the other supplies, I am careful to grab the rest of the tubes, checking each one to see if they are expired before placing them inside a smaller inside pocket so they don’t get lost. Scanning the rest of the shelves, I climb to my feet and dash to the other bathroom to see if it has treasures of its own.
My scream is much louder this time when I find an intact medicine cabinet built into the wall above the vanity. With little care, I throw it open. The sight of the rows of medicine nearly has me passing out. After so many dead ends, I have finally found something. Tears of joy roll down my cheeks and I feel like I can finally take a deep breath.
As fast as I can, I look through each and every bottle of medicine. All of the unexpired ones go into the new bag, each bottle giving me another piece of hope back until I feel full of it. There is even a bottle of antibiotic pills, though they are expired. It is a risk but when my sister could potentially die, I find I am willing to take that risk.
By the time I go back outside, the sun has begun to sink with Ragnar is hovering in the yard. Anxiety is written in every line of his big body. When he sees me, the tension leaves him in a rush, and he nudges me with his head.
“Okay?” He asks, sniffing me to answer his own question. I nod, a beaming smile on my face.
“I found it!” I say, not bothering to whisper. His head whips up, his eyes big with shock.
“You found it?” He repeats, wanting clarification.
“I found the medicine!” I shout, my happiness unable to be contained. His reaction only makes my smile bigger. He jumps up, giving a lupine huff of happiness. With that one action it's like he lifts a weight from my soul. His own is contagious with its beauty and leaves me breathless for a moment.
“Can we go to your sister?” He asks once he has ceased bouncing hard enough to shake the Earth. My face falls for a moment as I do mental math. There were six tubes of cream and one bottle of pills. If her infection doesn’t go away, that could only last a few weeks. It is a start. As much as I would like to go home, I also want to make sure we have all we need.
I also selfishly don’t want this time with Ragnar to end. What will happen once we return to the bunker? Will I go back to living a half-life without him? My soul shrivels at the possibility. It seems such a short time to have become obsessed with him, but he has given me back something that I thought I lost. Me.
“Can we check a few more houses before we go? If this one had all of this, then there is no telling what else we might find!” I plead, using my best puppy eyes. Like the golden retriever he is, he concedes. With a bump of his snout against my chest he sends a vibration through me to show his agreement, but it leaves me breathless. Arousal shoots straight to my core like he is holding a vibrator to it.
In an unusual display of affection, I wrap my arms around his whole face, hugging it to me. Another vibration has me biting back a moan. If he keeps this up, I will be a puddle on the ground before too long. A huff of breath against my stomach tickles and I giggle as I release him. Our eyes meet and I am snared in their intensity. Before my very eyes, I watch as the blue is eaten up by a different blue so dark it is almost black.
His nostrils flare again, and the blue is gone in an instant, all black. When his sails flare along his legs and back fear shoots through me. Confused, I spin in a circle, trying to find the threat. When I don’t see or hear anything, I turn back to Ragnar only to freeze like a deer caught in headlights. He has eaten up the little bit of distance I put between us, his nostrils flaring again before he pushes his head back into my body.
Embarrassment and shame heat my face when I realize he is sniffing my groin. Slapping his face away, I try to move. A squeal of alarm escapes when he snarls at me. He has never made a sound like that towards me. I’ve heard him rip another monster to shreds but that destructive energy has never looked my way. Now that it has, fresh fear shoots down my spine even as I resolve to stand strong. This is Ragnar. Whatever is happening isn’t by his choice.
