Beauties and Beasts

Chapter 40: brought to you by eggs!

Sorry for the late update. Christmas, ya'll. Anyways, Neara is left alone with a certain sheep and certain things happen... certainly. A visit to her pregnant friend who stops being pregnant and awkward tension around Shay and Neara. Yay awkward tension!

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Neara bent over in pain and suppressed a groan. Winston left a few days ago to find more cotton blooms since she had given half her supply to Shay and Theo accompanied him. Orson felt more qualified to care for her since he was, after all, a doctor.

"I've never met a female who whines this much," he grumbled as he smoothed crushed golden root over her abdomen. "The heat from this should help."

"It's burning! Get it off! Just leave me alone!" Neara pushed the goop off of her and threw it as far as she could, which wasn't far.

"I would, but it's raining outside, and you know I have a thing about my hair." He pointed to it with a straight face.

"Fine, just leave the room then." She screamed into the fur and grass. This had been so irritating... Orson had been so aggressive lately; constantly jumping down her throat and teasing her.

The door shut in the background. She looked up, confused, momentarily distracted from the intense pressure in her gut. "Orson?" She vaguely remembered him forcing her to drink something earlier and laid her head down, convinced he'd just shut it against drafts.

Rain still hummed on the roof when she awoke, and Orson couldn't be found anywhere. She opened the door and found him squatting outside, thoroughly soaked.

"Orson, what are you... ugh, that's not what I meant." She rolled her eyes and pressed her hand to his shoulder.

"No, it's fine; you wanted me outside, I'm outside."

"Well, then, get inside you moron." She grabbed his arm and pulled him in. "What were you thinking? You'll get sick, and then who'll take care of me?"

He relaxed, or maybe resigned, and sighed. "You're right. I should be more considerate of your welfare. I get mad sometimes and... I can't see anything else."

"I don't mind you getting mad, I mind you doing stupid things because you think it'll be better in the long run, which it won't." She pointed to the wet footsteps leading inside. "Don't you think that's messy?"

"Yes. I'll clean it up when it dries a little. No sense scooping holes in the floor." He leaned over and stoked the fire a little. The logs collapsed in on themselves and sent sparks upward.

"Orson... do you hate me?"

"What? No, I don't hate you. I hate myself."

"Because you're a sheep and can't mate?"

He stiffened, the shoulders in his back tense as stone. "How did you... yes." He held his breath.

"I... I like you, Orson, even if you are a jerk. I like how funny you are and that you grumble, but still take better care of me than anyone else."

He stood up and broke his stick into pieces. "I want to believe you, Neara, I do. And you don't have to worry about me leaving, because I won't."

"I know you like me too..."

"But that's just it! How do I know if I like you or if it's because you're the only damned female that sees me as an equal with those meat-chuggers? Why should I burden you with that knowledge, that choice?" He ran his fingers through his wet hair and shook them in disgust.

"Well, the first step would be to not be a dick." Neara walked closer and brought his hands to his side, a slight pink to her cheeks.

"I don't want to be a dick; when I'm around you, all I can think of is how I shouldn't be around you... I don't belong there."