Bad Taste (Part I) // Colby Brock

73 - Colby

          I panicked the next evening when I woke up and Rebecca was missing from my bed. I had come home from the job hesitant, keeping my distance until I couldn't help myself and pulled her over my chest. That was how I thought she had stayed, but it was clear now that she hadn't. It seemed a little stupid to expect her to still be in bed in the evening — she slept at nighttime after all — but I couldn't help it, what with what happened last night.

I could smell her strongly, as if she was still right next to me. The bed was empty, though, and my non-beating heart was pounding.

What if she had run off to tell someone I wasn't human? If she really did believe that, and she wasn't just tired and joking, then she was a danger to the clan. I couldn't even think about that right now as I sat up and looked around my room. I saw her backpack sitting on my couch, her work backpack missing from within. That made me feel a little better about her absence.

As I listened hard for any sounds in the house, I suddenly heard the distinct scratching of a pencil to paper and the steady, familiar heartbeat of my girlfriend. I pinpointed the sound to the red room, where I could also hear a little buzz of voices in various conversations. But Rebecca was a part of none of them, entirely focused on what I assumed was her work.

I could faintly smell coffee now — Mocha, her favourite — and leftover food bits that I assumed she or Katrina had thrown in the trash. It was as if it was a normal day; as if she hadn't dropped a huge bomb on me last night. But she had, and she wasn't even the slightest bit bothered by it.

To the others, I tried not to act bothered either, although they had seen my distraction all night during the job. The first time I had been distracted and it was because Rebecca knew I wasn't human, yet didn't care.

She was a peculiar woman, which was just part of the reason I cared about her so much: she shocked me constantly. Her snappy remarks were the first sign of that, followed by her ability to never back down to me; to never be intimidated or made sad. At least, not until we left each other.

After a short shower and getting changed, I zipped down the stairs. Of course, even if Rebecca knew I wasn't human, I wasn't going to parade around demonstrating my abilities, so I walked into the red room at a human pace. Rebecca was, as I suspected, completely wrapped up in whatever sketch she was drawing. She had her bottom lip clenched so hard in her teeth that the skin was white, and her brows were drawn together.

I shut the door purposely loudly. She startled without actually jumping, her head snapping up and her heart skipping a beat. She showed no sign of fright on her face, though. Perfectly trained.

Our gazes met as I walked towards her. She only held onto looking me in the eyes until I was close, when she stood up to give me space to sit. As soon as I did, she dropped onto my lap with her back to me and her sketchbook held up with one hand.

I couldn't help but narrow my eyes when she shifted her hair from her shoulder onto the other and tilted her head along with it. It left her neck completely exposed to me, like she was testing me. I glanced at Sam, who seemed to be wondering the same thing.

But Rebecca was already lost in her world of designing, which meant that there was no pulling her back for a while. I pulled her across my lap until her back hit my chest then I wrapped both of my arms all the way around her. She responded absent-mindedly, leaning her head back to be close to me for a second. Then she turned back to her work.

With just a little hesitation, I made her lean back and hid my face in her neck. A silent shudder moved through her — pleasure rather than fear, which I definitely hadn't expected. I breathed in quietly, taking in as much of her as I could while she was still sane, because she clearly wasn't if she knew what she was sitting on top of. I was starting to think it disturbed me more than her.