It took two days for my mystery guest to awaken. He had a fever for a while – or I thought he did, but then with an angel, I wasn’t entirely sure what the natural temperature was, either – and I started to get really concerned that he was going to die in my apartment and I was going to have to try to explain that to, well…police? I didn’t even know who to call if someone I tried to rescue from the river ended up dying in my place. Probably police. Who would probably view me as a suspect.
Thankfully, angels were tough, so he seemed to be healing okay and the likelihood of my being a suspect in his death started to decrease. During the afternoon of the second day, after checking on him and finding him sleeping, I went back to my reading nook and started into my book. I was so deeply engrossed in the story that I missed the sounds coming from my bedroom until the door opened and an angel with a sheet wrapped around him appeared in the doorway, looking annoyed.
“Colt, this isn’t – ” He stopped when he spotted me, his annoyance turning to confusion. “Um, who are you?”
“The resident of this apartment,” I answered quietly, closing my book.
“I…see.” His brows furrowed. “And…why am I here? Do I know you?”
“I found you two days ago in the river, you seemed to be pretty injured, so I brought you back here. I don’t think we’ve met before.”
He seemed even more confused. “Then why am I here? Why didn’t you just take me to the hospital?”
This time it was my turn to be confused. “Because you’re a supernatural. I don’t know any friends or family of yours to contact and you didn’t have a phone on you.”
“Right, but,” he paused, “the hospital has a supernatural portion to it, you know that, right?”
It probably was obvious from my face that I did not know that, and I felt humiliation start to spread through me. Of course, even when trying to help someone, I’d screwed that up, too. It would have made a lot more sense to take him to the hospital where he could be properly treated and his friends and family would have known where to find him. They were probably worried about him now, and I’d only made it worse by taking him home with me instead of where he should have been. Instead I’d kidnapped him and he’d ended up in a stranger’s house without proper medical care. I…well, of course I screwed up. Apart from my career itself, that was all I did.
“I’m sorry, no,” I said in an even quieter voice. “Where I grew up and went to college didn’t have anything like that. I didn’t realize it would be different here.”
Silence for a while, then he shifted uncomfortably. “Well, thanks for saving me, I guess? If you hadn’t pulled me out of the river, I’d probably have drowned.”
“You’re welcome.” I pointed to a bag by the door, not looking directly at him now, still feeling too ashamed at my mistake. “Your clothes were rather beat up but I got you some in the same size, so I hope that works.”
“Oh. Thanks.” He picked up the bag, then hesitated again. “I’m Tommy, by the way.”
“Cooper,” I responded in the same quiet tone. Then, even quieter. “Sorry about the hospital.”
I wasn’t sure if he heard me as he ducked back into the bedroom, reappearing a while later wearing the clothes – which thankfully fit him – but wincing a bit as he moved.
“Did you deal with my injuries?” He asked as he reemerged. “Are you a doctor?”
By this time I’d retreated to the kitchen, assuming he’d probably be hungry after not eating in a couple of days.
“I tried. I’m not – I’m a banker.”
He seemed surprised at this. “Oh, well – you still were able to do a pretty decent job to keep me from dying.” He groaned a little as he sat down at the kitchen table. “I got bit by a naga,” he explained. “I assume the poison worked its way through my system. Injuries like this,” he motioned to his chest, which I knew had shallow but long claw marks across it underneath his shirt, “aren’t as big of a deal, but the poison was a problem. Since you kept me from bleeding out, my body was able to focus on the poison first.”
Naga poison. That might explain the fever and unconsciousness.
“Still got to heal these,” he added with a stretch, “but it shouldn’t take too long now.” Then he paused, slowly glancing around him. “Why do you only have one chair for your kitchen table? And where are all your Christmas decorations? Did you just move into the area?”
“No, I’ve been here for two years now.” I placed a bowl of heated soup in front of him, hoping that he was okay with canned soup. I was average at cooking, but I figured he needed food sooner rather than later, so hopefully this would be enough until he went home at least.
“I don’t need another chair,” I answered quietly. “It’s just me.” The words stabbed at me, mocking my loneliness, but I ignored them. “I don’t put up decorations.”
“Oh.” The angel took a spoonful of soup, and I wasn’t sure whether his awkward expression was because the soup was awful or he wasn’t sure what to say next.
I decided to leave him to eat – or to secretly pour out the soup when I wasn’t looking – and went to the living room where I retrieved my phone, coming back to him with it unlocked when I set it down on the table next to him.
“Feel free to contact whomever you need,” I told him. Then, without another word, I went back to my reading nook, curled up in the chair, and tried to read. Pretended to read, mostly, because there was some part of me that couldn’t ignore that for the first time in years, someone was in my apartment with me. Sure, he wasn’t there for me, wasn’t even there willingly, but just the fact that someone else was there spoke to my lonely heart. The sound of someone in the kitchen moving around was reassuring somehow, even if it was from an unwilling guest whom I’d never see again.
I heard him on the phone after a bit, his voice muffled enough from the other room that all I could make out was the murmur of his voice without any actual words. The conversation went on longer than I expected, but eventually he reappeared and set my phone on the windowsill next to me.
“Thank you,” he told me. “My friend’s going to come and pick me up. Sorry for all the bother – I didn’t mean to put you out of your bedroom and make you have to take care of me.” He glanced around guiltily.
I shrugged slightly, hunched over my book. “It’s not your fault.” It was easier to deal with one stranger than many, or even than a group of acquaintances, but I’d already made a huge error with him and I just felt ashamed the longer I was with him. Which reminded me, I needed to make sure he understood. “Sorry for not taking you to the hospital, I should have realized.”
“Eh, not everyone does.” He looked around, apparently confused at the lack of seating options, but when it was just me, why have more than one chair when I knew I’d only use the one? Maybe I shouldn’t be seated, though, he was injured and probably should be sitting down. I wasn’t sure why he wasn’t just sitting on the couch over closer to the door, that would make sense, but maybe he wanted to be by the window to watch for his friend.
I unfolded from my chair and motioned towards it as I stood up. “You should probably sit down?” It came out as more of a question, but he seemed to get the point and did accept the offered chair, although he looked a little abashed about it.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to take your chair, too.”
“It’s fine, you’re injured, you should probably not move around too much.” I hesitated, wondering awkwardly what I should do next, when it dawned on me that I could go and deal with throwing the bedding into the wash. That way we wouldn’t have to just sit here uncomfortably until his friend arrived.
But when I turned and started for the bedroom, his voice stopped me before I got too far. “What kind of supernatural are you? I’m an angel, not sure if you knew that.”
I glanced back at him. I probably could have guessed, even if I hadn’t known already. He had one of those faces and bodies that people would call a classic Adonis. Strong, sharp features, rich brown hair that had hints of red in it, and eyes that were startlingly bright – and different colors, which I hadn’t realized until he woke up. One blue, one green, somehow making him even more of a fascinating specimen – as if he wasn’t enough already.
“I guessed as much.” I admitted softly. “I’m a shifter.”
“Shifter?” He frowned a bit, his brows furrowing. “Are you affiliated with Zayne?”
At my blank look, he seemed to relax a bit.
“You don’t know who that is.” It was more of a statement than a question, but I figured it wouldn’t hurt to confirm it.
“I don’t, no.” Then, after the shortest of pauses, “I’m not affiliated with anyone.” I escaped then into the bedroom, peeling off the quilt and starting to remove the blanket and sheet before, to my surprise, he followed me into the room and leaned against the wall.
“So why’d you help a perfect stranger, anyway? If you were affiliated with Zayne, I’d get it – he’d love to have us owe him something – but most shifters I know don’t do something for nothing.”
I grabbed as much of the bedding as I could in one armload, not really able to see over the top of it as I headed vaguely in the direction of the bathroom, where the washer and dryer were kept. “I saw someone who needed help and pulled him out of the river. Then I figured he’d just die if I left him there, so I brought him home. That’s it. I don’t expect anything, it’s not like you asked me to do it nor agreed to come.”
I sighed to myself as I shoved the sheets into the washing machine. Supernatural politics. There was a reason I spent more time with humans than supernaturals, even if I could never be myself with them. Dealing with other supernaturals just got complicated for reasons I could never understand. Now this angel was suspicious of my intentions when all I’d wanted to do was prevent someone from dying because it seemed like the right thing to do.
Apparently not. Apparently I shouldn’t have gotten involved, or at least I should have taken him to the hospital. Apparently everything I did about this was wrong.
That sounded about right. All I could ever do was screw things up further. He was right, I never should have gotten involved.
“You really don’t expect anything?” He’d followed me yet again, watching as I poured detergent into the machine. “That…doesn’t make sense. You had to take care of me for a couple of days and you were put out of your bedroom. That seems like a lot of inconvenience for a stranger.” He hesitated, as if suddenly aware that he sounded ungrateful. “I’m not trying to criticize you, you did save my life and all, I’m just confused.”
I shrugged a bit as I went past him to grab the rest of the bedding. “It wasn’t that big of a deal to me.” Actually, it’d been nice, not that I’d admit it. I would sound like a creep if I admitted that having someone else in my apartment – even an unconscious, injured stranger, had been a nice change. It meant I wasn’t the only one in my little world for once.
“Really?” He sounded doubtful now. “That…how can it not be a big deal?”
I placed my second armful of bedding on the counter, then opened the cabinet to retrieve fresh sheets. “My workplace is closed right now for the holidays, so I would have been home anyway. I’m fine sleeping on the couch and checking on you every so often wasn’t that time consuming.” The only hard part had been dragging him here and initially taking care of him. The rest of it really wasn’t a big deal, like I was telling him, but he didn’t seem to want to believe.
The angel looked like he wanted to argue with me some more when my phone rang. I dropped the fresh sheets on my mattress and took a look at the number, not recognizing it. I assumed it was his friend and held the phone out to him.
He accepted it and answered the call. “Colt? Oh, okay. Yeah, I’m upstairs. Uh,” he looked at me.
“There’s an elevator,” I informed him. “You don’t have to walk down. Go out the door, turn right, it’s down the hall on the left.”
“Right.” He turned his attention back to the phone. “I’ll be down in a couple minutes. Yeah, I’m not that bad, I can – you brought a wheelchair?! Oh come on, it’s not that bad! I can walk, I definitely don’t need a freaking wheelchair! You’re ridiculous.” He hung up, shaking his head. “Idiot,” he muttered.
I shifted uncomfortably, drawing his attention back to me. He handed over my phone, which I left on the bed, following him out to the front door so I could lock it behind him.
He hesitated as he got outside, turning back to look at me. “Thanks again, Cooper. I owe you one.”
“No,” I answered quietly, “you really don’t.” Then, just before I shut the door, I remembered to add, “Merry Christmas.”
I locked the door, then waited until I heard footsteps recede down the hallway before I went back to work making my bed, reflecting to myself that that was the longest conversation I’d had with someone that wasn’t work-related in years. It wasn’t a great conversation, but it was still something. That…counted, right? It could make this holiday season a little better, because I hadn’t been alone the entire time.
I sat down on my bed and pulled my knees up to my chest, tears filling my eyes. Yeah, right. Hearing those footsteps leave, even if it was a stranger, my lonely heart felt abandoned all over again. It had been so nice to have someone here for once, where I could almost pretend that he was someone I knew. A friend, maybe. Not quite, definitely not after he woke up, but now he was gone, and that brief window of contact with another living being was gone, too.
I’d gotten worse over the years, I realized. As friendship after friendship failed for reasons I didn’t understand – why was I never enough for anyone else? – it got harder and harder for me to be willing to try. I did still try, because I felt desperate for even one person to care about me, but…it never worked out. Now I was even more reluctant to open up to people, even more hesitant to attempt a friendship and put my heart on the line when I felt certain the only ending was watching it get crushed. Time and time again I’d still do it anyway, only to watch it all crash and burn and come back to my apartment and look at myself in the mirror, wondering for the millionth time what was wrong with me.
Apparently I wasn’t built to have friends. I craved them, but for some reason I wasn’t allowed any. I tried not to care, I tried to just be okay with being alone, but sometimes the loneliness got so crushing it was almost hard to breathe.
It was fairly early in the day yet, but I didn’t feel like being awake anymore and sleep was one of the only escapes I could get from my life, so I crawled in and pulled the covers over my head, hoping that tonight I’d be spared the memories of my family’s deaths.
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