What Makes a Monster

♱Seventy-Four♱

Mature Scene: As usual, let's keep everything respectful. Thank you.

Dinner is nice and all, but the comfort that comes with a pleasant chat over food turns to jittery nerves the moment we return to the hotel. Malatis has claimed the office now, resting on the rug with a shoe in his mouth. Weirdest part? I have no idea whose shoe it is because it isn't mine and it isn't Soran's. Did he steal it from someone's foot or their room? Either way, the familiar has a stolen shoe that neither of us attempt to take.

Soran is at the small dining table working on a few papers rather than in the office. I'm laying on the couch with the book that I'm meant to be reading, but the words aren't registering. From time to time, I peer at Soran, feeling my heart flutter into my throat.

The pen scratches on paper. His hand moves swiftly across the page. His brow is furrowed, lips set into a thin line. Sometimes he takes his bottom lip between his teeth. Sometimes I hide my shame behind the book for staring at those lips for far too long.

You're being a pervert, Wallie! Read the book. Focus. You're going to learn magic to defend yourself in order to help not only Soran, but admittedly everyone at the estate too. If you can't be continuously pushed around then others will be less likely to attack or at least reconsider, right? Damn it. Focus. Focus. Fo-

"Why don't you get some rest, Wallie?" Soran suggests, bringing my attention back to him when I have been struggling so hard to get it away.

"It's getting late," he adds with a nod towards the clock on the wall. I take a glance to find that the time is a little after eleven. We'll be heading out tomorrow around eight so I shrug.

"I'm alright," I answer, sitting up to watch Soran stack up the papers. "Are you done for the night?"

He rolls his shoulders. "Yes. I'll finish up tomorrow."

More jitters. More nerves. More staring for longer than I should, only this time I'm caught. Soran smirks, which doesn't help the heat beneath my cheeks. If I'm not beet red already then I will be in a moment, I'm sure.

"What are you staring at?" he asks, peering over his shoulder like he thinks there may be something behind him. There obviously isn't so he glances back at me with a raised brow.

"N-Nothing," I sputter, dropping back onto the couch with a book over my face.

That book is pulled away in a second. I yelp in surprise then go completely silent when the book is replaced with Soran. He's leaning over the couch, peering down at me with a teasing grin. The book is in his grasp, held almost lazily off to the side. I'd reach for it, but sitting up means getting even closer to him. Close enough to feel his breath so I merely point and ask, "Are you going to give that back?"

"Will you use it to hide?"

"Probably."

"Then no."

I'm not sure what he's doing or what he wants. The two of us remain speechless, locked in a heat stare that has my heart rate escalating until I'm fearful of disease or permanent damage. Twisting my fingers into my shirt, I finally ask the question he gave earlier, "Now what is it that you're staring at?"

"You, obviously."

I roll my eyes. "Why?"

"Need I answer when you were doing the same all evening?"

Ah, I was caught.

I bite my lip and turn away.

"Don't stay up all night reading," he says when finally dropping the book back into my hands. "Goodnight, Wallie."