Chapter 17 - Bath
Realization seemed to arrive in Graeme's eyes, but he said nothing.
"Is that part of the mate thing?" August asked, searching him.
Graeme shook his head, thinking. "I haven't heard of it. Was that the only time?"
August shook her head. "In the pool when I woke up. Shimmering…" she trailed off. "You were shimmering. All over. I felt it." Her face turned pink again, and she looked down. "It seems you saved me again." 'Three times,' she thought to herself.
He let out a long sigh and brought her into his arms, cupping the back of her head. "Thank the Goddess," he whispered into her damp hair.
The forest began to darken around them with the fall of daylight. "I have to give my sister a call. Want me to run you a warm bath?"
August could feel the strands of wet hair that had gotten cold in the forest air. "Sure, that sounds nice." She smiled.
She followed Graeme into the bathroom to watch how he plugged the drain and worked the hot and cold water. The sound of the water pooling in the warm glow of the bathroom made her feel sleepy. Steam started rising, clouding the mirrors. Graeme pulled a fresh towel from a cupboard.
"Do you want different clothes to change into? I have a bathrobe you can use if you want," he offered.
She shook her head, "This should be fine."
He paused at the privacy screen. "I know this doesn't feel like home yet, but the last thing I want is for you to be uncomfortable. Whatever you need, please tell me and I'll take care of it," he said. "Or, if you'd rather talk to Greta, she can help you, too."
August nodded silently, slightly embarrassed by the attention.
"Make yourself comfortable, okay? I won't bother you," he reassured her.
August stood looking at the place where he had been standing for awhile before undressing and lowering herself into the hot water. The tub was deeper than average, and the water rose to her chin before she reached out to turn it off.
In a time now when everything seemed unreal and overwhelming—not to mention traumatic—the water was familiar and safe. She took a deep breath and rested against the side, letting her legs float up to the top and her tense muscles relax.
Two rooms away, a thud outside the door alerted Graeme to an unexpected guest. He sighed and opened the door before Finn could knock.
"Good evening, Finn," Graeme deadpanned.
"Graeme! I heard your mate is awake! I wanted to stop by before my perimeter run with Lucas. How is she?" He spoke excitedly and tried looking beyond Graeme to catch a glimpse of the mystery girl who ripped Marius's neck open.
News spread quickly after that night, and Finn had become popular with pack members. They all wanted to hear him tell the story. Of course, he added his own details for flair, but the lasting image of August standing in the room covered in Marius's blood was the same.
Graeme grabbed the side of the door frame, blocking Finn from the rest of the house. "She's well."
"Can I say hi?" Finn's face was radiant like a young child about to meet his hero. He might as well be jumping up and down with anticipation.
"No." Graeme said flatly.
Finn's face fell. "But—"
"You'll see her soon enough," he replied.
Finn could see by Graeme's posture that there was no arguing with him. He groaned. "Ugh. You're no fun." He handed Graeme three long, bristly stems. "I brought these from the field." Graeme raised an eyebrow at the sunflowers before narrowing his eyes slightly.
Finn instinctively took a step back, and Graeme smirked in response. 'This Finn. What a clown,' he thought to himself. He sighed but took the flowers from Finn's hand. "I'll let her know you stopped by." A glimmer of joy flashed over the boy's features.
"Thank you, sir. Good night," Finn bowed slightly and leapt away.
Graeme sighed and closed the door with a soft click. He wondered again how the council found out so quickly that August was awake.
When August came around the privacy screen dressed and cozy with her hair wrapped in a towel, she didn't see Graeme in the bedroom. It was a relief that he wasn't hovering close by, and it allowed her to linger amongst his things without eyes constantly on her.
She approached a closet and opened it quietly to find a meticulously organized wardrobe. Everything was solid, neutral colors. One side of her mouth curved slightly at the simplicity of his style. It wasn't surprising. He didn't exactly give off a flashy vibe, but he didn't need to. He had strong features and a presence that was confident and commanded attention.
She moved to the closet on the other side of the bed. One thing was for sure, his organization habit was intimidating. This closet held women's clothes. August removed a lightweight floral button-up shirt and examined it on the hanger. It was her size. This must have been Greta's doing. She sighed and put the shirt back.
A short while later, August wandered out of the bedroom looking for Graeme with her towel in hand. He was in the kitchen leaning against the counter with a glass and pad of paper. When she entered, he tore off a sheet of paper and folded it in half.
"Hey," he greeted her. "How was it?"
"Good," she answered, "thank you." Her hair fell in loose, damp waves around her shoulders, darkening the sweatshirt with water spots. She held up the towel. "Where would you like me to hang this?"
He smiled at the mundane question. Mundane was a good change. "I usually hang mine over the railing around the deck. I like when it smells like the forest," he gestured outside with a smile reaching his eyes.
She nodded in response, smiling, and turned to walk out to the porch. "Oh, um… do you have a blow-dryer?" she asked shyly.
"Yeah, I believe Greta brought one over. Maybe in the cupboard below the sink?"
So the meticulous organizing was his sister's doing. Hanging a towel over the railing seemed pretty carefree for someone whose closet had perfectly smooth, folded shirts and shoes lined up like they were on display.
"Oh, mammoth sunflowers!" she said, seeing the vase on the table.
"Yeah… you have an admirer," he replied mysteriously.
She furrowed her brows with a smile. "What?"
"I'm not sure that you would remember Finn. He was there when I brought you to the outpost that night. He also saw what you did to Marius," he said. "I imagine that story has made him very popular with his friends," he chuckled. "But he's a good kid. He wanted to see how you were."
August touched one of the yellow petals lightly. "I love sunflowers."
"There's a whole field not far from here where there's a clearing in the trees. Would you like to see it tomorrow while we're out?" He walked toward the table and stood next to her.
"I would love that," she replied. "It's amazing how they grow so quickly in just a few months. And with the big, friendly faces," she smiled. "They remind me of people."
Graeme watched her intently. It was like each one of her expressions turned a new page in the story of her, unfolding now before his eyes. He had watched over her for so many days without getting to know her, without seeing her expressions or moods change, and now here she was, animated with life in front of him. She was really here, really his mate, really awake like he had begun to doubt she would be, and now he couldn't help but be drawn in by her gravity.
"Don't you think they're happy flowers?" she grinned up at him.
"I never thought about it like that," he glanced at the flowers that had gotten her attention before returning his eyes back to her, his gaze deepening.