Tug-of-war

11- Hades is allowed on the furniture

Being locked in a room all day was weird. It made me lose my grip on time. Eventually, the light coming from the windows faded, and I started to get drowsy. I didn't even know at what time I had gotten up that morning, but it felt like it had been so long ago. I yawned, and Owen chuckled.

"Guess it's time for bed, huh?"

I nodded, rubbing my eyes. How could doing nothing all day be so tiring ? Then again, this whole werewolf soulmate thing had been a lot to process. All of these conflicting emotions, and my efforts to wrap my head around this strange new world, were incredibly draining.

"All right, then," he said. He slipped off the edge of the bed and started to adjust the blanket he had slept on the night before, on the floor.

"Wait," I said. He turned towards me, and the way his eyes looked right in mine made me flustered once again. I took a deep breath, and forced myself to blurt out the rest before I lost my nerve. "You... you don't have to sleep on the floor."

He looked at me in disbelief. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, just... climb on before I change my mind," I huffed. "And stay on your side of the bed!"

He got up, looking like he was trying very hard to contain his joy. I almost laughed because of how much he looked like a puppy who was allowed on furniture for the first time.

"Okay, so your side ends heeeere," I explained, tracing an invisible line in the middle of the mattress. Thankfully, the bed was quite large, so sleeping apart would be manageable.

He gingerly took place on "his" side, laying down as close to the edge as possible, one arm dangling off, in what looked like the most uncomfortable sleeping position ever.

"You're going to fall off," I remarked.

He scooted about an inch away from the edge.

Once again, I had to stop myself from laughing. I couldn't believe this was the same "evil kidnapper" I had been terrified of before. I supposed he still felt pretty guilty about that. Getting to know him and our unique situation had gotten him to forgive him, kind of - I had to admit that trying to get me to believe that he was my werewolf soulmate could have gotten messy in the middle of campus. Plus, he couldn't have shifted to prove his point without people getting out their torches and pitchforks - or thinking they were having a bad trip from special brownies, which was objectively more likely for college students. So, I guessed I forgave him - but he didn't have to know that just yet. He still deserved to feel bad for scaring me out of my wits and making me miss class.

Besides, this made him extra-careful around me, which was a good thing. He always gave me as much personal space as possible. I tried to tell myself I wanted him as far away from me as our weird "mate bond" allowed (which was really just a few feet) because he was still basically a stranger - which was a pretty good reason. But deep down, I knew it was also because of the attraction I couldn't suppress despite my best efforts.

After having seen him transform into a wolf in front of my very eyes, I couldn't deny he really was a werewolf. And if something as crazy as that could be real, there was no reason to think the "soulmate" part was any less real. Despite the initial denial, I knew deep down that what he had told me about it had been true.

I should've been happy: I was apparently destined to forever be with an amazingly hot guy who also seemed sweet and considerate, all kidnapping aside. Besides, my teenage YA novel fantasies of dating some kind of supernatural cutie were coming true. What more could a girl want?

But as I started to accept my new reality, the implications of having a soulmate were starting to dawn on me too. It felt like an arranged marriage - neither of us had a say in it, but we were bound to spend our life together. I was shoved into a lifelong commitment without a warning, without getting a chance to read and accept the terms and conditions.

Sure, spending the rest of my life with the same person had been my dream, but the plan was to 1. Meet a handsome stranger

2. Go on a few charmingly awkward dates with the handsome stranger (who would become a handsome acquaintance)

3. Officially date the handsome acquaintance, who would become a handsome boyfriend

4. Unite my life to the handsome boyfriend by making him my handsome husband.

Instead, it had gone from 1 to 4 with no in-betweens, leaving me in a room with a handsome stranger who was also apparently the werewolf equivalent of my husband.

This wasn't, in any way, a normal situation, but I wanted it to be as normal as it could possibly be. Even if we were destined to be together and we both knew it already, I wanted to take my time, to get to know him gradually. I wanted this to feel like a normal relationship, where trust and intimacy would slowly build over time.

Therefore, being as attracted to him as I was already was most unwelcome.

Even the soft touch of his hand when he had comforted me had been electric and... addictive. As much as the rational part of my brain tried to fight it, I craved his touch and I knew that if he held me now, I wouldn't want to pull away. And this wasn't how it was supposed to go! He was still practically a stranger, what was wrong with me? I had been scared of him a day ago, I tried to remind myself. I wasn't supposed to want this, not yet. Ugh! This weird mate-bond thing was messing with my head!

So, I was glad he was keeping his distance. We wouldn't skip any steps. First we would become acquaintances, nothing more. Tonight, we would sleep as far away apart as possible on the bed, in a completely platonic way.

"Good night, Elena," he said, pulling me out of my reflections. With a clap of his hands, the lights went out.

"Good night, Hades," I replied, turning away from him. See? If I faced this way, I could even pretend he wasn't here at all.

I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing, the way I did when I needed to stop thinking about exams and go to sleep. Soon, the thoughts of soulmates, werewolves, and what it all meant spinning around in my head like a demented carousel disappeared, and I drifted off...

...

Then I woke up, and the first thing I noticed was something warm pressed against my back.

I tried to ignore how soothing it felt, and instead turned around, ready to curse Owen out for not staying on his side of the bed.

Except he had.

"Son of a..." I muttered under my breath. Owen was still asleep, laying flat on his back, stiff as a board, in the exact same spot he had first laid down when he got on the bed. I, on the other hand, had somehow scooted backwards in my sleep and wound up pressed up against his arm.

I crawled away, hoping he hadn't woken up and noticed before.

The other end of the bed felt cold. A part of me really wanted to get back next to him where I had woken up, where it was soft and warm.

I told that part of me to shut it, and went back to sleep.