Winter Wolf

Part 6

Axton excused himself from the conversation to go stand outside. He stood on the porch and stared out into space, quietly reeling.

Thick and heavy, snow was falling as if it was being thrown down from the sky. Because of the wind, it was coming in at an angle, like it was in too much of a rush to go straight down.

Axton's chest tightened and he felt the first lick of what might have been fear. What was he going to do for Leander? How was he going to keep himself from turning?

Speaking of, why was he standing out here, stressing his human body? At least now he knew what the headache had been. His body had tried to warn him of the storm, and he'd been in such a doe eyed panic about Leander's mere presence that he'd ignored it. Axton bowed his head and stayed like that for a moment, and snowflakes drifted onto his dark lashes. Was this his life? Was this who he was? Was he always going to be so distracted by beauty that he lost all sense of danger? Other people didn't do that, surely? What was the normal way to love?

Axton remembered a winter a decade ago: cold snows and kissing a boy right on the lips--the heat of love, the overwhelming distraction of it--not being able to breathe from the weight of joy he felt at being with someone. And then discovery, exile, and a young solo wolf howling in the snow, heartbroken and disowned. Fatherless, packless, and without even a lover left.

Alone.

Bad memories. He usually didn't revisit them. No reason to start now.

He went back inside.

"You know what else?" Leander asked, back turned to him as he fiddled around in the kitchen. "What else makes this extra interesting?"

"No," Axton said honestly.

"Your furnace," Leander told him.

"My furnace?" Axton echoed.

"It's still broken. I went over there to check if your cabin had warmed up yet, and it was still freezing. Sorry to say, man, but I think your heater's done for."

"Still...yes," Axton said slowly. Right, he'd lied. God, but he hated lying. He especially hated lying when his lies came true. His furnace had been working fine last time he regularly used it, which would have been...years ago. At least it had started up briefly to give credence to the lie that he'd fixed it before Leander came over.

"So I'd suggest that anything you need to get, you go get now," Leander said.

"What?"

"I mean, mine's working," Leander said, like it was obvious.

"That's not enough," Axton frowned, "Not in a blizzard."

"Well, yes. You've made that clear. But do you really think we're better off without a heater?"

"No, I--" Axton stopped. Licked his lips, nervously, before speaking. "Are you inviting me over?"

Leander gave him a mildly scandalized look, like he thought Axton had lost his mind.

"I'm not going to let you, like, freeze to death, dude."

Axton opened his mouth. Closed it. There was no way to protest that didn't give him away.

"Thanks?" he tried.

In reality, his heart was sinking ever deeper into his chest. How could he say no? But how could he say yes, when he was liable to change at any given moment? Not yet, maybe, not nearly, as long as the heat worked and the power was on and the blizzard didn't wreck too much havoc. But eventually, he would be distracted, and his body would feel threatened, and then it was time for teeth and claws and then Leander would never speak to him again, ever.