Sly as a Fox {Book One}

Chapter 29

Chapter 29

A/N: The gif above is another of Blithe, just with short hair.

Fall

noun

-an act or instance of falling or dropping from a higher to a lower place or position

-the season of the year that comes after summer and before winter; autumn

-a becoming less; a lowering or decline; a sinking to a lower level

For more than a few seconds, Blithe stood unmovingly in the doorway of my hospital room as his eyes scanned over me. Maybe I should have felt uncomfortable under his stare, but I felt my chest bloom at the sight of him. He looked a lot better than the last time I had seen him, healing from his own claw marks.

Finally, he threw his arms up in a gentle motion of disbelief as he approached my bedside, "Wh-what the hell happened?" His eyes looked at me directly, but I knew he was inspecting the claw marks on my face. I hadn't seen myself in a mirror yet and was holding off on doing so for obvious reasons.

With my good shoulder, I reached out for his hand, which he was quick to oblige. With a squeeze, I felt my muscles contract into a small grin, the stitches still feeling too tight as they ached in response, "We have to stop meeting like this." This was the second time we had been to the hospital for fairly serious injuries in just three days and, to me and my macabre sense of humor, it was comically ridiculous.

Blithe found no humor in this situation, however, and his brown eyes turned hard, the muscles in his neck popping out with tension. "Willow." He said sternly, making sure I knew how serious the situation was.

I took in a deep breath and averted his hard stare. "Fine," I relented. "I don't know what Serena told you, but today was a sparring lesson in phasing skills class and I got paired with a Carca girl who had it out for me."

He nodded in understanding, his long hair brushing against his shoulders with the movement, "And you gave her a broken arm?"

I looked up to the ceiling, hesitating for a moment whether to tell him the complete story or not, "And I tore her ear and ripped off most of her nose." I wasn't sure how much blood from the fight had been cleaned off from my body by the nurses, but I was very much aware of not breathing in his direction. I didn't want the stench of blood and flesh to reach his nostrils where the putrid taste still lingered in my mouth. It felt odd to be both proud of what I had done and embarrassed.

He squeezed my hand tenderly before he said firmly, "Good."

I turned my head to him, feeling the room spin a bit from all the medication as I did so. "You're not upset?"

He shook his head and his features hardened, "No, of course not, they deserved it. Why would I be?"

I moved my tongue over my teeth in thought as I avoided his eyes once more, "I don't know, I guess I thought that because of your history with other Volpes, you would-"

He moved down to my eye level at an inhuman speed, his hand reaching up and ever so gently caressing an area on my cheek that was free from stitches, "You're not them. You're not anything like them." His eyes studied my face again as his fingers stroked my cheek. A soft smile graced his full lips and his face relaxed, "I had my own fights in phasing skills class, you know. I never broke anybody's arm, but..." There was a teasing edge to his voice and I knew he was trying to make me feel better. It was working.