AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I flushed, because he was right. I’d been shoving some logs into the oven and none-too-gently, either.
“What doesn’t matter?” asked the shadow that was my husband. Suddenly, his eyes glowed.
“Oh. Nothing. Never mind,” I said, embarrassed by how annoyed I’d been all day. How hurt.
Those white eyes remained on me for a long moment before he grunted and turned away.
Oh, great. Now he’s leaving again.
Except he didn’t. He didn’t walk away but just turned to grab something behind him, hoisting a very large object into the air. When it became clear he wanted to bring it inside, I hurried forward to grab the door and hold it open for him.
Silar turned the object in his hands and brought it sideways through the doorway. Then he put it down on its wooden legs where it was illuminated by the dregs of dusk and the light of the fire.
“The table! You’re already finished with it?”
“Chair’s done too,” he said, already heading back outside, presumably to grab it. He came back a moment later, placing a brand-new chair down at the table.
I should not feel so happy about a table and a chair, I scolded myself as I grinned and ran into the bedroom for the other chair. But I just couldn’t help it. Yes, Silar may have bolted earlier. But he’d finished the table, which meant he still wanted to sit and take his meals with me. That had to count for something. Didn’t it?
“I would have brought that,” Silar said, coming towards me as I carried the older chair into the kitchen.
“It’s alright,” I said brightly. “I’m stronger than I look.” I chucked down the chair then patted its back. “Well?”
“Well, what?”
“Aren’t you going to sit down?” I patted the chair again. “I’ve been wanting to get another look at your ears, anyway.”
The mention of ears sent Silar stiffening. I remembered brushing my fingers against them as we kissed. Touching them when his whole body had lurched against mine with the force of his involuntary climax.
“I won’t touch them!” I added on a hasty breath.
Silar hesitated, then, as if realizing he could not outrun his wife’s stubborn resolve, he came around the table and sat down, removing his hat. As promised, I didn’t touch him, even though I really wanted to. Not even necessarily in a sexual way. I just… wanted to touch him. Stroke the aqua glory of his long hair. Massage the tense muscles at his shoulders until they loosened. Just like before, he was shirtless, though I noticed with a squeeze of satisfaction that he was wearing new trousers.
“They look better, I think,” I said, peering at the edges of his ears. The blackness had receded, and the skin overall looked smoother.
“They are,” he said stiffly. His ears twitched, as if he expected me to touch them despite my promise. They really were way too fucking cute. A big, bulky, masculine marvel of a male like Silar really had no business having adorable, round, cartoonish ears like those.
I wanted to touch them so badly.
But I wanted to keep my promise to him more. So I balled my hands into fists and went to the oven. Wrapping my hand in a spare towel, I pulled out my cast iron. I’d been experimenting with heating up some of the food in the cellar, and had meat and eggs heaped in the pan. I spooned the food onto plates and brought them over, placing one plate down in front of Silar and the other on the other side of the table before sitting down across from him.
The table was small. Intimate. Perfect for two. If I reached over, I’d be able to grab Silar’s hand as he reached for a piece of meat.
“You didn’t have to do that,” he said, seeming gruffly surprised that I’d prepared dinner for him again.
“You just said that about carrying the chair, too,” I reminded him with a small shake of my head. “I know you said you don’t have any expectations of me here, but I want to be useful. I want to help you with things.”
His eyes, which had dimmed back to blue, burned briefly white.
I turned my attention primly down to my plate while internally screaming about the fact that I had no clue what sort of emotion he was feeling right now. “Besides,” I went on, “I’m used to working twelve-hour-shifts at the factory. I’m not used to just sitting around doing nothing. I’m happy to cook. Or garden. Help with the animals. Anything.”
Silar watched me intently, appearing to consider what I’d said as I began to eat.
“There is a lot of work to be done,” he said at length.
I nodded eagerly. “Put me to work, then! I want to. Really.”
He scrubbed his knuckles against the underside of his jaw then finally growled in agreement.
