Cozy • An Embry Story

.29

Embry's POV

Winnie's hearts reminds me of a hummingbird. From the way it's thundering in her chest, it's pounding so rapidly and unevenly the rhythm blurs against my ears, the beats turning into a fast hum.

Her heart racing is her only reaction. She saw me then didn't move. Didn't flinch, didn't do a double take, didn't even blink. She's been standing in the middle of Enola's backyard completely motionless.

I don't dare move either, too nervous any sudden moves will make her scream or run. The fear keeps me right where I am.

Then the rain starts.

The downpour gives us no warning, just plummets down with full force. The rain finally jolts Winnie out of her shock, the cold water acting like a small shake of the shoulder to snap Winnie back to attention. Staggering back, she goes to wipe the water out of her face to get a better look at me. Her clothes stick to her, her hair darkening to a jet black and now soaked through, water drips off the ends. Yet cold, wet, shivering and miserable she refuses to head inside, staring me down with a searching look.

When the rain gets heavier I know it's time to shift back. Or else Winnie may never go inside. The rain doubles down, the winds picking up to whip at us. Miles away my ears pick up the dull roar of thunder that's heading our way and fast. My hind legs bring me to my full height, which doesn't scare her but only makes her dare a step towards me.

She's not scared.

I know what fear smells like, I know the sound of it. Fear is a rancid smell. A sour and musty stench like sweat mixed with gasoline. It sounds urgent and loud, with the heart pounding irregular, beating so fast just till it almost gives out completely. Winnie's is none of those things. The look on her face is unmistakable; she's stunned but not scared.

With a silent bow of my head, I signal what I can hope is something she understands. The slow nod she gives back makes me sure of myself she isn't scared of me at all. Turning back for the woods, I keep my pace slow and steady rather than running off to ensure Winnie doesn't somehow convince herself that she made something up that just vanished.

"Wait—don't," She finally speaks. I've never heard her voice like that; choked up. My head peers over to look back at Winnie. She's moving towards me, following me up into the brush. She's not any closer, the distance between us the same but she's trying to keep me in sight. Her clothes are completely soaked through now, sticking to her like a second skin. Everything about her is trembling, but from the rain not fear. One arm is wrapped around herself, trying to hug some warmth into her, while the other is extended out, almost reaching for me.

Knowing what I have to do, I phase back.

Between the shifting I hear Winnie gasp, the sound keeping my head low, my eyes not ready to look up and face her reaction. I'm low to the ground, crouching on the balls on my feet as if I might phase back and run into the woods. Though I know I wouldn't just leave like that; not again. I hold my ground, ignoring the rain as it pelts my bare skin, steeling myself over if she screams.

I see her sneakers before her. There's the sound of a zipper, then her jacket is being draped over my shoulders. It's wet, completely soaked through and ice cold, but it's her way of telling me she's not going anywhere. She sticks out her hand, inviting me to take it and to look at her, to face her with the whole truth. It's never been so hard to pick up my head before, it feels heavy with hesitance, but I meet her eyes. The emotion in them makes everything easier and I'm on my feet. Her hand squeezes mine so tight it feels like her own arms holding me for a brief moment.

Then she starts off for her cabin, guiding me by the hand inside.

Billie was right. Winnie doesn't scare easy.