Mask | ✓

17

The first thing I noticed when I woke up the following day was that I wasn't in my own room. I blinked twice and pushed myself up into a sitting position. The light grey walls and almost smothering, earthy scent jogs my memory, and I turn my head to glance over beside me. Instead of seeing Nixon lying there, however, the bed is completely empty.

Where did he go?

Was he okay after last night?

My brows furrowed, and I climbed out of bed and went to the door, which was cracked ajar. The noise coming from downstairs served as a clear indicator of where the man in question was. I quickly walked up the hall and down the stairs and saw Nixon sitting on the couch with a bowl of cereal in hand and the TV playing.

His brown eyes glanced over at me. It was clear that the last thing Nixon wanted to discuss was what happened last night. He didn't say it, but he didn't have to — his expression gave it away. Though all we did was sleep in the same bed, his face told me that the situation was awkward to him or something he was embarrassed about, so I decided against bringing it up.

"What happened to you cooking?" I said instead in an attempt to lighten the mood. "You told me that you could cook, and yet, here I find you with a bowl of cereal. My doubts are growing, Nixon."

Nixon appeared relieved once he realized I wasn't planning to bring it up last night. He quickly masked this, though, and replaced his previous expression with a scowl.

"What happened to you not talking? It seems like you never shut up now, and here I thought Nolan was bad."

Though his face was twisted into a scowl, there was no hatred in his eyes. I couldn't help but grin as I stared at him.

"And yet you stay here, in my house, in my guest room, sitting in my living room. Funny how life works."

Nixon responded by flipping me off.

I was happy to see that whatever type of nightmare he had last night didn't affect his mood. He was the same snarky Nixon that I was used to seeing.

"Tatum?" Maia linked me.

I force my attention away from Nixon. "Yes?"

"The first candidate just arrived at the edge of pack lands. I'm on my way to meet her. Are you coming?"

"I'll be there," I responded without missing a beat. I wasn't going to make the same mistakes twice.

"I'll meet you there," Maia replied.

Once I finished talking to her, I turned my attention back to Nixon. The bowl in his hands was practically empty, and his gaze was focused diligently on the TV. Guilt ran through me, knowing that I'd have to leave.

"I have to go," I said, grabbing Nixon's attention. "I should be back in a few hours."

"Yeah?" Nixon said, setting the now empty plastic bowl onto the table and turning to face me. "Bring food when you come. It's the least you can do after keeping me copped up in here all day."

My guilt grew, but I forced it down and instead said, "Asking me to bring you food? It seems like you're trying to get out—"

Before I could finish the sentence, the bowl that had been previously sitting on the table was thrown. Before it could make contact, I managed to grab it and glanced over at Nixon, who was staring at me with feigned innocence.

"What were you saying?" He asked, brown eyes complete with smugness.

"That I wasn't going to bring you any food," I said as I sat the bowl down, knowing good and damn well that I'd still make the short trip to get him a burger later.

The smug expression fell off his face. "Tat—"

"You shouldn't bite the hand that feeds you — quite literally," I told him before turning to head back up the stairs.

Before I left, I would tell him that I was going to get the burgers, but right now, I'd have fun watching him sulk.

Once upstairs, I moved to the inside of my room and toward the bathroom to quickly shower and get dressed.

The lady I was supposed to be meeting today was named Celia Radcliffe. She was from the Lunar Falls Pack, which I had traveled to several times in the past. The Lunar Falls trained in a similar style to us, so it wouldn't be a significant change for the warriors to adjust to in that regard; however, training wasn't the only thing I was focused on. Unlike the Silver Night, which focused primarily on training, I cared about how the new addition would fit into the pack as well—picking someone most of my pack dislikes would only cause more harm. It was a lot like school in that manner; people are less likely to listen to those they don't like, and I wanted to make this adjustment as seamless as possible.

After I showered, I quickly dried myself off and got dressed. Then I stepped out of the bathroom, put my shoes on, and made my way back downstairs. Nixon was still sitting where I had left him.

"I'll bring you your burger so you can stop looking like a kicked puppy," I told Nixon. His brown eyes snapped to mine, and his mouth opened, but I cut him off and jokingly said, "I'd choose my next words carefully. That decision is still open to change."

Nixon rolled his eyes, but a slight grin was evident on his face. Part of me wanted to stay, but I needed to go and see Celia. So, as much as I didn't want to, I walked toward the door and opened it.

I glanced back at Nixon one last time. "I'll see you later."

Nixon simply nodded, and with that, I exited the house, closing the door behind me.