Worse Than His Bite

Chapter 7: Good boy

Phineas was —to put it lightly— humiliated.

He couldn't believe he'd make a scene like that. Poor Sebastian. He didn't mean to make things between them more awkward than they already were. They had walked back to the cottage in silence after Phineas had calmed down.

Sebastian had said nothing. Not that he talked much anyway, but there was a reason for his silence this time. He'd escorted Phineas into the house and sat him in the kitchen facing the broken remains of the dining table.

"I'll get your supplies from the shed." Was all Sebastian had said to him before he left Phineas alone in the house.

His head fell into his hands and he leaned over.

It'd been so long since someone had mentioned her. No one knew him London, they certainly didn't know his past. He didn't have many friends and a majority of those friends would more rightly be labelled acquaintances. He wasn't in contact with the rest of his family outside of his mum.

An outside observer may perceive him as lonely. That was not the case. He was alone, not lonely. There was a vast difference. His aloneness did not bring him misery or heartache as loneliness would. To be alone was a state of being whilst being lonely was a feeling. He was not lonely.

His aloneness had allowed him space to grieve and grieve he had. He'd had his years of doing so, but he was over it now. Cried all that he could. It was done. He'd moved on.

And yet, one mention of her and he was straight back to square one.

He was glad that she lived on in people's memories. She deserved that. She had been a light in this world and he was glad that her brightness was not easily forgotten. He just hadn't expected someone to say her name, to bring her up again. It caught him off guard.

He heaved a heavy sigh. The smell of the forest had followed him into the cottage.

He could cry some more. He could stay in this chair and scream until he his throat was raw. However, if the experience had taught him anything it was that life would not weight for feelings. It marched on and you had to keep up. He came here with a job to do and by whatever force necessary, he would do it.

He lifted his eyes. That broken table... Sebastian had done that? By what strength? It wasn't humanly possible.

No. No. He needed to stop with the whack job conspiracies. He stood up from his chair and headed upstairs, he wasn't going to get anything done if his paranoia kept on running away with him.

It sounded absolutely ridiculous and he'd laughed at himself in the morning, but last night he'd risen out of bed to go to the bathroom. Just a simple trip down the hall and back. Whilst he was going back though, he could've sworn —it sounded so ridiculous— that he'd seen something moving in the woods. How ridiculous was that!

That's how he knew he was letting his imagination get the best of him.

He reached the top of the stairs and saw light pouring out from Leo's bedroom door, casting liquid gold across the wood. He'd forgotten that Leo was home. He should probably say hello and then have a go at him for not getting their drinks because of some stranger at the bar.

He approached the door. The floorboards softly squeaked under his feet. He reached forward and grabbed the door handle. He was about to open the door when he heard a deep moan. It stopped him in his tracks.

He stood there with the door handle still in his hand, ears straining. Had he really heard that? He listened for longer.

Then it came again.