Every Bookshop Needs a Cat (Fleckney Fields Series, Book 2)

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Author's Note: I can't stop doodling Klaus. More of my drawings can be found on my Instagram page: https://www.instagram.com/kkolmakov/. Have a peek, if you like!

***

She was almost asleep, tucked into his side; and he was slowly running the tips of his fingers up and down her forearm. She felt him shift, turning his head; and she opened her eyes, meeting his intent gaze.

"Is the light bothering you?" she muttered.

"No, darling, not at all." He smiled at her tenderly. "You sleep now."

"But you aren't." She yawned and rubbed her nose against his shoulder. "What's up?"

He laughed quietly. "Nothing is up, darling. Because nothing can get up."

Anya gave him a fake reproachful look, which only made him chuckle again.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked, marginally more awake now.

"Not in the slightest," he answered. "I apologise for a daft joke. And I'm honestly fine. I'll have to discuss it with my counsellor, because I don't want it to become yet another trauma I've bottled up. And it's not your problem to shoulder."

"I want to help," Anya said quietly.

"I know you do. And I'm grateful." He stroked her cheek with his curled up index finger. "We are friends, darling. I'd been telling you things and relying on you long before I was allowed to touch your private parts."

Anya smacked his shoulder, mindful not to shake him too much, and he snorted.

"I only hope you know that you can do the same," he added somewhat more seriously.

Anya decided it was time for a small payback.

"Touch your private parts?" she deadpanned.

"Share your troubles and expect my full support," he corrected her. The corners of his lips were twitching in a suppressed laughter. "And can we hold off on touching any of my parts? I'm just not sure I'm ready."

"Of course. Of course we can." She settled back on the pillow. "And you were wrong then, in the bathroom." She yawned again. "I'd been curious about what you've got under your clothes for quite a while as well. And I suspect I will enjoy everything I find there. So, we should definitely take it slow. What if I get too enthusiastic?"

"I know you're pacifying me right now; but flatter me like that some more, and I might be convinced to reconsider," he murmured and kissed the top of her head.

"I'm not flattering." Anya was starting to slur. "I like looking at you, clothes or... not..." The reality was slipping out of her grasp, and she nuzzled his upper arm. "I keep thinking if it's like your beard– Like copper wire–" She splayed her hand on his sternum. "I can feel it through the tee– And I fancy your stomach–"

And then she was out.

***

"Wake up, darling. Anna, your alarm has gone off."

His soft, low voice was the first thing that reached her senses. Then, she became aware how wonderfully relaxed and warm her body was. Her nose caught the smell of clean sheets, and Klaus' shower gel, and something unfamiliar, soap or air freshener. She felt relaxed, though well rested. 

"My heart, I hate to wake you up, but I can't reach your phone." He sounded regretful. "Oh, you're sleeping so nicely. My poor, exhausted little sötnos. I feel awful."

"Don't," she muttered, somewhat aware now where she was and why.

Klaus.

The hotel bed.