Page 80 of Gunnar

“I put a bunch of your clothes in the suitcase, and some bag that was in the bathroom. I hope I got all the important stuff,” Torin says, looking uncharacteristically bashful.

“Oh my god.” I bury my face in Tabitha’s fur, because suddenly I’m tearing up. I’ve tried to be so strong since I’ve been here, but this kindness, this consideration is overwhelming.

“We didn’t think we’d be able to get into your apartment,” Torin says. “So, we couldn’t check with you first.”

“No, this is—this is perfect,” I manage to say.

“Let’s get it inside,” Gunnar says.

Tabitha starts fighting to get down, so I put her back in the carrier and lift it out of the car. Gunnar and Torin grab the rest, and we head inside.

Gunnar and Torin bring the bags through from the hall. The suitcase goes by the wall. The books land on the desk with a thud.

“You should be a bit more comfortable now,” Torin says.

“This is… just perfect,” I say. I bite back another thank you. He’s already shifting like he doesn’t want the fuss.

Instead, I shut the bedroom door, set Tabitha’s carrier down on the floor and open it. She stays inside, crouched at the back, watching.

“It’s okay, baby,” I say, quieter now.

She doesn’t move. Her ears are drawn back and she doesn’t take her eyes off the two bear-men.

I reach in and run a hand over her back. She’s tense under my fingers, ready to attack or run.

“Guess she’ll need time to get used to us,” Gunnar says. “We should leave you to it.”

He doesn’t look at me.

“Come join us when you feel like it,” Torin says, flashing me a kind smile before he steps out.

The door clicks shut.

Tabitha creeps out, sniffing cautiously.

I leave her to it and open the suitcase.

There’s a lot of my stuff in there. Jeans. Shirts. Socks.

Lingerie.

Heat flickers up my neck, but it passes quickly. I’m just glad to have it.

The bag that was in the bathroom turns out to be my toiletries case, which has a lot of stuff that I need. I almost cry again at the sight of it.

I set some things out on the vanity and start putting my clothes away.

At last, Tabitha has fully emerged. She stretches elaborately and begins examining the entire room.

I sit down on the edge of the bed and let out a slow breath.

Orson might hate that I’m here.

Gunnar has been avoiding me all day. Which stings, even though I probably, kind of expected it.

But at least I have this little space where Tabitha and I can exist.

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