Page 4 of Dating A Fae
Calm down calm down calm down!
Standing in the middle of the sidewalk, I take deep breaths. People walking by give me weird looks. If I don’t clamp the panic, I’ll expose the supernatural world by bursting into a ball of light. Not the best way to start the weekend. Frozen on the spot, I shut my eyes and count backwards from twenty.
Surprisingly, the bag in my hand keeps me grounded. Literally. And by the time I’ve finished my count, I feel better.
Okay,mildpanic, but I can do this. Milton invited me. I’m allowed to be at game night. He wants me there, otherwise he wouldn’t have invited me, right? Exactly!
I take the final steps to my car and slide in. Even though the drive to Milton’s shop won’t take long, I get my favorite driving playlist going. The music helps calm my nerves and lets me focus on the road rather than the false words rolling around in my head.
The door to Faerie Good Coffee chimes like always when I walk through, and that’s when I realize I’m entirely too early. It’s rude to show up as early as I have, and I back away, trying to get through the door before Milton spots me. But no such luck.
“Johnny?” He wipes his hands on a dishtowel as he walks in from the kitchen.
“Uhm. Hi. I… Sorry?” I throw out my arm holding the gift bag and stand there awkwardly when he takes the offering.
His brows scrunch. “What are you sorry for?”
I wave to the clock on the hot pink wall behind him. “I’m so early. I got sidetracked because I wanted to get you a host gift, and then I came right here and wasn’t thinking about the time and… I’m sorry.” My shoulders drop and cheeks flame.
“It’s okay, I was just in back making sugar cookies.” The smile he gives me could fuel a thousand cities. “I know how much you like them.”
That’s what does it. In a bright flash I’m goo… or rather, a ball of light hovering in the doorway.
Milton’s eyes grow wide as he takes in my new light form. His gaze drops to the pile of clothes on the floor, then back to me.
Yep. I’m naked in all my shining glory. At least I’m an amorphous blob of light so my dick isn’t swinging in his face.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt? Is there anything I can do for you?” Milton sets the gift bag on the checkout counter and takes a tentative step towards me. When the lightbulb above me blows, he jumps.
I wish I could melt. Communication is impossible in this form. I’m stuck until my now burning shame of embarrassment for the reaction to his remark aboutknowinghow much I like his sugar cookies cools off. If I had a head, it’d be tipped back and I’d be groaning.
“I’ve never seen a Will-o’-the-wisp in person. You’re…” Milton bites his bottom lip and glances away. “Your light is beautiful. No wonder people want to follow it.” He lifts a hand as if to run his fingers through me, but stops himself. “That’d be rude wouldn’t it? Touching you without permission. You can’t talk to me in this form, can you?”
I wish I could. Instead I float toward the room I know is Rain’s—each lightbulb in my path popping as I go—and slide under the door.
Hovering above the bed, I curse myself. I’m old enough I should have a handle on this. But I’ve always been a nervous Nellie. Even with therapy. Ever since… I squeeze my eyes shut because I don’t want to think about the past. The therapist said I wasn’t at fault. But I had to be, I’m a harbinger of doom in this form. Speaking of which, I need to shift back as soon as possible or something worse than a few blown lightbulbs might happen to the shop.
Luckily, Milton leaves me to my misery. I don’t want him watching me right now, and being an age-old fae, he probably realizes that. Actually, I have no idea how old he is. Doesn’t matter, supernaturals age at different rates anyway.
Will-o’-the-wisps can be millions of years old. Being twenty-five in actual years means in wisps years I’m still ridiculously young.
I don’t know how long I hover before I drop to the bed with a huff and stare at the ceiling. Naked. After wrapping myself in the top sheet, I open the door and peek out.
“Uhm. Could—”
“Are you okay?” Milton’s already standing at the door with my clothes neatly folded.
“Just embarrassed. Thank you.” I take my clothes and retreat back into the room to dress.
It takes me a few lungfuls before I’m comfortable enough to leave the sanctuary of Rain’s room. When I do, Milton has a steaming cup of tea and a sugar cookie waiting for me on a clean table, no one in sight and all glass from the blown lightbulbs swept up.
Milton’s offering helps ground me into my physical body. With the food and drink it’ll take me some time before I can spontaneously turn into burning light again. Unless of course Milton flusters me. Such is the life of a nervous shifter.
I drop my head to the table, letting the coolness seep into my skin. “Sorry for being weird,” I mumble, hoping wherever he is he can hear me.
“Don’t be sorry,” he says from the kitchen doorway. “My shop is a safe place. Do you wanna talk about what happened?” His voice gets closer.
I think all emotion’s drained from me, empty from being embarrassed. “I like you. And I’m... basically dealing with the wisp equivalent of puberty.” Which is annoying. No one thinks to tell shifter supes they go through two puberties, one for their human form and one for their supe species. I say that, but maybe the animal shifter types do get the heads up. Wisps apparently forget to tell their offspring before they abandon them to their urge to burn. At least mine did.
