Page 90 of Painless
"You be nice to them," I told her, sliding up the lock. "They're not for you to hunt."
I cracked the door open and she squeezed through the gap to dart outside. But she bypassed the chickens completely, running straight to the workout area.
"Damn it, cat." I muttered under my breath, my face heating up. "You are absolutely shameless."
Shadow was doing a set of bench presses when Freyja jumped on his thigh. He paused for a moment when he felt her, then carried on with his set like normal. His labored breaths and soft grunts of effort made my pulse quicken. The worst part was knowing that he had truly no idea how hot it was.
Displeased at being ignored, Freyja decided to walk up his thigh and settle on his stomach. She proceeded to knead him, paws moving rhythmically up and down as she purred up a storm. I could hear it all the way from inside the house.
Shadow finally set the bar on the catches and rolled up, holding her gently against his torso.
"Hello again, kitten." He cradled her like a baby in the crook of his arm, scratching her cheeks and chin as her eyes closed in bliss.
His shirt was off, chest muscles flexing as he petted her. With his long hair tied back, I got an unobstructed look at his face for the first time. A long, deep scar cut through his eye, stretching from his forehead to his cheek. My throat closed up uncomfortably. It was a miracle he still had that eye at all.
That scar didn't match the rest of the ones on his body. Whoever made it had taken out something personal on him, wanted to hurt him with more than just a surface level cut. Someone wanted to maim and disfigure him. But by all accounts, Shadow seemed perfectly capable of seeing with both eyes.
I could never imagine wanting to hurt the large man playing with my kitten. He was now curling his fingers into her belly, laughing softly as her claws and teeth dug into him. The evidence was written into every inch of his skin that this man had been hurt deeply, and for many years. Perhaps more than anyone else I ever met, he needed to be loved.
And that scar on his face did nothing to slow the fluttering of nerves that happened now, and whenever he was nearby. If anything, it only amplified my body's response to him.
I turned away from the sliding door, busying myself in the kitchen before he saw me. A few minutes later, I was entranced by a packet of Mexican hot chocolate mix when he came inside, still holding Freyja.
His shirt was back on, hair loose and pulled forward over the scar, the iris of his pale eye peering at me through the dark strands.
"Hi, Mariposa." He greeted me first, no longer trying to hide while I sought him out to say hello or good morning.
He set the cat down gently on the floor, where she proceeded to wind around his ankles.
"Hi, Shadow." Despite his dark, serious demeanor, I always felt like smiling around him. "Congratulations, I think you have a new cat."
He let out a dry laugh, watching Freyja rub all over his feet like a shameless hussy. "She's not mine. I still haven't figured out why she likes me."
I bit the inside of my cheek.I can think of a few reasons.
"You, ah, ready for this move?" My fingers crinkled up the hot chocolate packet, like the sugary brick was the key to breaking the tension between us.
"I think so. Excuse me, can I get past you?"
He closed the distance between us in one long stride, and my senses filled up with the warm, earthy scent of him.
"Oh yeah, sure! Sorry." I crossed the kitchen in a leap, like a gazelle.
"It's okay." He pulled open the cabinet that had been right above my head and brought down a tall glass. I openly stared as he filled it with water from the faucet and drank deeply.
Yeah, I'm thirsty too.
"I'll have to leave most of my books behind in the move," he said, oblivious to my ogling. "But my tattoo equipment should all fit on my bike. I'll just need someone's truck to hold my solar charger and generator so my machine can have juice."
"Are you doing a lot of tattoos before we leave?"
"I have designs in the works for a couple of the guys, but no, not many." He set his empty water glass in the sink. "Why?"
"If you have time, I," my shoulder crept up bashfully, "think I decided on my next one."
"Oh yeah?" A dark eyebrow lifted, as did the corner of his mouth, just slightly. "What did you decide on?"
"Something that portrays that I'm a medic," I said. "To you know, signify this time in my life if there's ever an end to this war, or the Collapse altogether."
