Duality

<T E N >

© Amber Kalkes 2014

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"Dig Me Out" By Sleater-Kinney

< T E N >

You never really realize the many shapes one can see in wood until your forced to look at it for almost an hour. Usually I am not one to simply stare into space, or a wall in this case. I like being busy and doing something and despite appearances I guess I am actually doing something right now. I am trying to play dead.

I woke up a bit ago to the bizarre sensation of something being wrapped around me like a vine. Peeking my eyes open I found that the something was in fact a large blonde werewolf dead asleep with his head on my chest and his arms wrapped around my waist. I was frozen and nearly an hour later I still am.

 I don’t want to make this awkward by making a big deal but also a big part of me doesn’t want him to move. That pleasurable prickling is happening across my skin that seems to only happen when he touches me but also this feeling of rightness is also settling in me that also makes waking him up seem impossible. Instead, I do something I would never of thought I would do in a million years.

I run my fingers through his hair, just like I’ve been itching to do.

It probably doesn’t seem like a big deal to you and to most I’m sure it wouldn’t but it shouldn’t surprise you that I’m messed up. Displays of affection are not my forte in any sense. Most of the touches I’ve felt in my life have been harsh and most of the time the idea of others touching me makes my skin crawl. I could probably Google something about some trauma-based phobia to explain it all but who has the time and besides I have something way more interesting to focus on.

Jack’s hair is just as thick and soft as I imagined it would be. It’s honey blonde strands, lighter it seems in the early morning sun, look so beautifully contrasted to the sun kissed skin of my hand. The hair tickles the sensitive skin between my fingers and I’m so caught up in the sensation that I don’t notice Jack’s awaking up until he groans into my chest.

Quickly I remove my hand and close my eyes, trying my best to make fake sleep look convincing. Jack slide up my body until I could feel his breathe tickle my eyelashes and the bed dip beside my head. Then I gave myself away. When I felt the approach of something towards my face I flinch making both of us freeze. Knowing that I’ve given myself away I slowly open my eyes only to meet a pair of intense ice blue ones staring right back at me.

“Hi.” I whisper, feeling the tension in the air.

Jack’s brows furrow as he continues to look at me, “Your bruises look better.”

“Do they?”

I internally curse as my voice comes out in a husky whisper. I can’t help it. He’s so close to me, his apparently natural scent of dark soil and rain filling my head and making it swirl with all kinds of dirty thought. God, he really needs to back away from me before I just push him on his back and have my way with him.

Jack lifts his hand slowly and with a deliberate caution towards my face. His expression lets me know what he’s planning to do and in preparation I lock all my joints. My breathing becomes harsher the closer his fingers get to me until the callused tips make contact with the skin of my healing cheek. Any soreness that I may have been feeling immediately fades into the background as I close my eyes, letting the sensation of it sink in.

“I want to kill him for doing this to you.” Jack says hoarsely as his fingertips glide their way towards my bruised eye. I close my eyes and let him soothe the bruised flesh. “Wren, open your eyes.”