Page 57 of Festive Fugitive
Our massive tree takes up a whole corner of the living room and reaches all the way to the ceiling. We set it up at the start of December, as that was what Eli wanted, but we’ve been making decorations for it since summer, and I’m proud to say it’s paid off. The theme is celebrating our life in Alaska, so we went with mostly blue and silver. We have handmade paper chains, painted baubles, cut-outs of seals and moose stuck to cardboard, and lots of wooden stars.
The decorations are also all over our house, and I loved hanging them all up with Eli. We’re building the kind of home I’ve never had. The kind Eli lost and can get back now we’re together.
As a trained killing machine I never thought I’d enjoy gluing together snowmen out of felt pom-poms, but it’s exactly what I need to soothe my soul.
“How is it going?” I ask, placing the remote next to a wreath Eli weaved only a week ago. He issotalented when it comes to all things craft and DIY. He puts me to shame with both a glue gun and a drill, but since the big jobs often require two people, I’m happy to be ordered around.
“Almooost there…” he says, leaning over the table, and staring into a mirror. “Done!” The brown contact lens slots into place, hiding his natural bright gray.
“Just let me know if you need to remove it,” I say, approaching him through the spacious living room.
It’s modern, with clean lines and lots of wooden elements, but all the personal touches Eli added while recovering from plastic surgery are what truly give our place personality.
One of the walls is painted in a lattice of abstract patterns, and while I wasn’t sure about that choice when I initially followed Eli’s vision, I now appreciate how itlivens up the vast space furnished with comfortable modern furniture. This is where we watch movies, where we read books, and sometimes even do crafts together. Where we fuck like bunnies when the upstairs bedroom feels too far away.
To the right is our open-plan kitchen, with a huge island that allows us to work together without arguing over one of us blocking the other’s way. Additionally, the counter is at a very convenient height for our favorite non-cooking purposes, so… well, let’s say I seize every opportunity to feel like it’s Friday.
I never imagined I could be this happy here. Only now I see that. I expected peace. I thought that every now and then I might have someone over for sex, or that freedom would mean no orders from Sullivan, but before Eli, I never got to experience what that would be like.
With Eli, it’s more than I could have imagined. Our life is not always peaceful, and that’s the beauty of it. Sure, sometimes we get cozy on the couch, make some boring instant noodles, or watch birds from the porch, but Eli is so active it’s usually not long between one burned pan apocalypse and a day-long rant about something going ‘wrong’ on the TV show we’re watching.
I love that chaos, it makes me feel alive. Like I’m important to him. I can gut a fish for him so he doesn’t gag over it, I’m in charge of our boat, I clean the living room when his paper crafts get out of hand, and I always make sure all the candles are put out before we go to bed.
I wouldn’t have to do most of that if he wasn’t here. But I love that I do. He’s my perfect match, makes me laugh every day, fulfills my deepest desires, showers me with praise, and without him here, my life would be comfortable but... empty. Colorless. With no purpose.
I’m unsure whether I communicate it to him well enough, but he did save me in more ways than one, and I will bend over backwards so he never has any regrets.
One of the sacrifices he needed to make for us both was to have his facial features altered. The surgeon did an outstanding job, altering my man’s face enough that he’s no longer recognizable asElijah Ward, but I miss the slightly bulbous tip his nose used to have. Still, if he was to start a new life as Elijah Reed, the intervention was necessary. A year on, he is fully healed, and I’d never be able to guess he’s had anything done if I didn’t know.
We frequently cook together too, and thanks to the nutritious meals and exercise outdoors he’s also filled out and grew a bit sturdier, which makes him even less recognizable to the average onlooker.
“I’m sure the lenses will be fine.” He kisses me in passing and rushes to the corridor to get snow boots on.
Even here, the Christmas spirit is overflowing. Eli has made enough colorful paper chains to drape them along every ceiling, so they’re here too, next to crocheted stars, and wooden ornaments we’ve been painting since the end of the summer. There have been moments when I thought it would have been nice to switch to another activity, but when I look at what we’ve done with the place, all I feel is pride.
The weather on our private island can be harsh, so we have quite the collection of warm boots, coats, and more blankets than I can count. Eli’s latest favorite is an electric blanket, for evenings when sitting by the fireplace isn’t enough. Not that I mind. He can have everything he wants, for all I care, and yet he never abuses that privilege.
“I miss the silver,” I say with a sigh, running my fingers through the dark blond waves that he grew out to shoulder-length.
He grins at me. “It is what it is if I’m to be undercover.”
I sigh and kiss his lips. “I suppose we will need to wait until you’re forty. Then, you can slowly stop dyeing it.” I sit down to put on my own boots. “Excited?”
“You know I love this house. It’s more than I could have dreamed of. When you said a house in Alaska, I imagined a cabin similar to the one we first hunkered down in, not an eco-mansion on a private island.ButI’m dying for this trip to town. And to a Christmas market too! I’msoexcited.” Eli paces in place as he puts on his aviator hat trimmed with the fur of a rabbit I hunted myself.
“There’s some people on the mainland who really want to meet my partner, but I’ll make sure they don’t overwhelm you,” I joke, because while I have made some connections during the necessary trips off the island, I don’t currently have any friends beyond Eli and our guard dogs.
With that, I zip myself up, put on a hat and grab his hand, leading the way outside.
Winter is harsh, even here in southern Alaska, but I’m happy to be far away from my former life, and this private paradise of ours is allowing that and more.
The island is big enough for me to hunt small animals and birds, which has become one of my main hobbies now that I’m no longer required to work, and I also often spend mornings fishing. Sometimes, we do little camping trips into the surrounding forest to make sure we’re capable of surviving in the wild if push ever comes to shove. Still, our household wouldn’t be complete without banana bread, candy, and large quantities of lube, so wecan’t quite live a self-sustainable lifestyle yet. But maybe in the future?
We did get into prepping a bit too much, but that’s what happens when passionate people have lots of time on their hands. I wanted a secure house, so I ended up buying one with a bunker under it, which also leads to a secret passage out of the house through a tunnel. I, of course, hope we’ll never have to use it, but it’s better to be safe than sorry.
I did worry it would freak out Eli, but he got very excited about it, and while we often cook together, he’s the one who does the canning, insisted on building a smokehouse for the fish, and keeps stock of our pantry. I wasn’t sure how much we’d need, but after the harsh November we’ve had, I’m glad we had so many supplies.
The next layer of security is watching us with dark, attentive eyes.
