Of All the Things that I Don't Know (Spot Conlon + OC)

Chapter 28

Spot Conlon jerked suddenly awake as he heard the sound of thunder booming in the near distance. He floundered momentarily in the darkness that surrounded him, running his hands roughly over his face in the hopes of assuaging some of his disorientation. But upon giving another confused glance around the space, he fell tiredly back into his bed's brass headboard, again coming up empty handed. He had never been one easily startled from a deep sleep-especially not due to the thundering storms known to sometimes pass through on late summer nights. Yet, something had troubled his subconscious state enough to jar him into wakefulness regardless, and Spot was rarely wrong when it came to his instincts, sentient or not.

He passed his hands through his hair once more as he performed a much more detailed inspection of his room, hoping that he could not only identify the issue, but also speedily put whatever it was to rest so that he could then do the same. He noted that the brass double bed he and Kate shared appeared to be in the same spot they had moved it to four months prior-on the left side of the space parallel to the multi-paned window. Their communal dresser sat, unmoved, to the other wall, his cane lying sturdily against the far side of it. And the nightstand stood as it always had-littered with books and papers next to Kate's side of the bed. But as lightning again flashed brightly outside, illuminating the room in a stark white glow, Spot suddenly realized exactly what felt so off about the scene.

"Kate," he whispered panickedly as he noted the empty space beside him, jumping from the bed without a moment's pause.

Thunder again boomed overhead as he rushed out of the room, passing through the hallway and into the darkened living area, frantically searching for any sign of her amidst the shadows. But he immediately felt his terror subside as his eyes settled on her form standing in front of the bay window on the far side of the room. Her hair fell in messy curls down her back, her white nightgown directly contrasting the darkness surrounding her.

He took in a deep breath as he slowly made his way over to her stony form, narrowing his eyes in concern at the rigidness of her arms about her torso and the anxious distance in her gaze. He crossed his own arms over his bare chest as he came to stand beside her, turning his head toward her to gently murmur, "Anyone ever tell you that a thunderstorm's nothin' to be afraid of?"

Her bright eyes glowed in his direction when another stroke of lightning flashed within the space, her voice somewhat hoarse as she murmured with a half-hearted smirk, "Anyone ever tell you it's indecent to walk around the house shirtless? What would people say?"

He chuckled as she waved her hands around in mock horror, shaking his head at her wry response while moving to stand behind her. And gently, but purposefully, he ran his hands down her taut forearms, unlocking her limbs' steely grip to replace them with his own solid, but soothing hold. She leaned her back into him and tilted her head to the side invitingly as he gently squeezed her waist within his arms. He found himself unable to stop from brushing his nose softly over the exposed skin of her upper shoulder, placing his lips on her neck before jesting, "They won't say a damn thing if they wanna keep their teeth in their mouth."

He heard her light laugh in response, her hands folding securely into his grip along her waist as he added, "Besides, I'm pretty sure it's the improper stuff that you like best anyway."

Kate squeezed his hands gently, definitively murmuring, "It is."

And with that, she leaned her head further to the side, inhaling eagerly as he moved his lips up the base of her neck and settled them seductively against her ear. But as much as he would have delighted in ending their conversation there to instigate a much more physical correspondence back in their bedroom, he knew that something distressing must have roused her from his side in the first place. So upon temporarily taming the lustful want of her that he always felt simmering at some level within him, he pulled his face back before asking, "Somethin' botherin' you, love?"