Bear

Chapter 8: Birdie

The space beside me on the bed is cold when my eyes flutter open. He left.

Disappointment swells, and I try to swallow it down. If I’m being honest with myself, I didn’t really expect anything different. Not really when you think about the kind of man you have to be to be a part of a club like the Soul Reapers. 

Last night was probably just another notch on his belt. I’m not quite sure what it was for me, but it’s probably best if I put it out of my mind… Whatever it was, it's over now. 

So why then, does the stinging bitterness of rejection taste so strong?

I stretch my aching limbs, refusing to dwell on it further; I have a day off and plenty of things to get done. The apex of my thighs remains sore from the thorough fucking Bear gave me last night, though considering the amount of things I have to do today I choose to ignore it. 

That and maybe just a little bit of spite. 

I take a shower and brush my hair, style my hair into a pair of matching braids and slick on a little bit of makeup. I have to cover marks all over my neck from Bear’s overzealous mouth, so it takes me a little longer than usual but once I’m done I feel a lot more awake. 

I put on the kettle, washing the dirty dishes from the previous night while the kettle boils. Ignoring the stupid longing look I give to the other mugs in the cupboard when I take one down for my own tea. 

I swear, you’d think that I’ve never had a one night stand with the way I’m behaving. 

After a cup of coffee, I’m able to get my laundry washed and hung out, bathroom cleaned, carpets hoovered all before 2pm. There’s no more procrastination cleaning to be done, and I have to do the one job that I hate above all. Grocery run. 

I don’t even bother changing out of my joggers or t-shirt, throwing on a jacket and a pair of trainers on my feet. My bag still has my purse and keys in it so I grab it from off the side table and head straight out the door. 

The street is busy enough for an early Friday afternoon, I try not to make eye contact with any of the people that pass me by. Damn, I left the shopping list on the fridge… I stop with half a mind to go back home to get the list, I mean I’ve barely even walked halfway yet I could—

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a tall figure in leather. I swing round thinking that perhaps it might just be the burly biker that warmed my sheets, and between my legs last night. 

Only it’s not him. This man is not nearly as tall, or burly for that matter. Instead he has a mop of red hair and pale freckled skin, through probably the strangest thing is that I don't notice a bike anywhere. 

Seriously girl, what happened to putting him out of your mind? 

I have to pretend that I’m looking for something on the ground so he doesn’t realise that I’ve been staring at him. Works out in my favour because I spot a 20p coin on the ground… Every little helps right? 

It's still fairly cold, my fingers feel kind of numb. I should've at least put on a scarf; if my dad saw me now he'd almost certainly have a heart attack. Well, the father I choose to remember anyway. 

My feet pick up when I spot the grocery store, a curtain of heat enveloping me as I step though the sliding doors. 

When I turn to pick up a basket, there he is again. A flash of leather, red hair and pale skin. It's definitely the same man from earlier. 

Maybe he's part of the same club as Bear? 

He turns slightly as if trying to hide his face, giving me a clearer view of his cut. A reared up, hissing emerald coloured snake patched onto the back of it.