Under The Skin

C h a p t e r E i g h t e e n

Song: "The Gospel Of John Hurt" By Alt-J

C h a p t e r E i g h t e e n >

No.

The word seemed to reverberate between them like some sort of curse unable to be taken back. It had been a solid 24 hours since she had denied him his request and they hadn't spoken sense. He had even removed himself from her presence by leaving the room and closing the door behind him. He had been in the living room since then and she knew that from the low sound of the TV, his shifting and steady breathing.

She hasn't moved an inch since he's walked out either. She simply sat there, first in shock, then in anger and finally in depression. She had denied him because she didn't want him to be exposed to the other side of her, for his safety. Of course he didn't understand that. He simply saw this as her proving herself a fraud. But the longer she sat in the darkness of the room, the more she realized her denial was really about her own fear of rejection. If he saw her, as the other, it was likely he wouldn't want her here anymore. He would make her leave him and the pain of that sent both her and her wolf in a panic.

Her mind wanders to her family. How they had treated her after her wolf had become unmanageable. How everything was on eggshells and filled with side glances. Looking at her like she'd either break into a million pieces or go feral and rip them all to pieces. As if she wasn't even their family anymore, just some crazed wild thing. It had widened the distance between them all and at the time it made her bitter. Now, she's beginning to be glad of it.

How much would it have hurt her and them to have to part like this if she'd been as ingrained in the family as she had been as a child? How much would it have hurt the pack? Too much, she decided. This was best. This was easiest for all involved but when it came to Nick...it was hard to make that call. Distance was not made for mates. Closeness and alliance was the bedrock of such unions but he was not like her. He wouldn't understand.

She scoffs at this. What does it matter? He's not even speaking to her, let alone thinking of a relationship with her. She's disillusion to even think of this as something to concern herself with. She reaches down and throws back the blanket from herself. It's time to concern herself with something more tangible, she decides. Like a shower.

She slowly eases herself towards the edge of the bed and bites her lip so she doesn't make a noise. She can hear his breathing beginning to steady and she knows he's close to sleep. So why not let the man rest? He certainly is less trouble that way.

Poppy gets herself to her feet and steadies herself on both the side table and nearby wall. She slowly straightens herself before removing her hands from any support and tests her weight on her feet. She's a bit wobbly in the legs but she can do it. Though, she has to admit, she's already exhausted by it. She sneers and curses under her breath. Fucking silver.

With a few shuffling steps she moves towards the nearby dresser and digs in the top couple of drawers. She pulls out a fresh pair of black boxer shorts and a gray t-shirt that falls about an inch above her knees. She laughs a little when she noticed the name of a bar and grill printed on the front with a donkey holding two pitchers of beer. Not something she expected in a man like Nick's wardrobe, that's for sure.

She also finds a pair of thick boot socks and grabs those too. Though her body runs naturally warm, the silver and injury has been making her toes and fingertips nearly freezing. Stuck in a bed all day with little circulation probably wasn't helping much either. She shuffles towards the adjoining bathroom and flicks on a light. She turns on the faucet before catching sight of her reflection.