Miran didn't know how resolutely Kira would take to her promise to live like she was dead. The next morning, she'd vacated from his home and disappeared leaving only the lingering scent of her and him.
She'd used his shower, his shampoo, his body wash, slept on his bed. His scent was stuck to her. He didn't mind. The pack wasn't much for outsiders, so he decided it would help her. He followed her light scent through the pack and found her near the border, in one of the older, dilapidated houses that was no longer in use.
Her curly hair was pulled back, as she toiled over what he assumed was the beginning of a garden. He watched her from afar, observing her. Sweat covered her, but it wasn't unappealing. Instead, the soft sheen made her glisten under the sun, catching her brown skin which seemed to almost shimmer. Her clothing was ragged.
Miran stepped out from the shadows. "'S house is not made for living. It's condemned."
Kira glanced up at the sight of him, shrugging with a smile. "Well so am I. So we fit."
Miran came closer, as she wiped her brow with a sigh. He stared at the makings of her garden.
"You didn't have to come this far out. Didn't have to leave really. Now, get your things. You can't stay here it's dangerous."
Kira's chest rose with her panting. "I'd rather not. It's nice here. Peaceful. I'm out of your way."
Miran leaned down, cupping some dirt in his hand.
"This isn't good land either. Nothing will grow. You'll die without my help. You're here to prevent that aren't you? You begged me to save you."
Kira shook her head, grabbing her hoe. "I begged you to shelter me. I'll save myself."
He scoffed, grabbing the hilt of her tool. "Kira. It's troublesome, you toiling away on unfruitful land. You'll starve."
Kira's eyes raised to his. The light brown almost yellow now shone bright yellow.
"I will fix the house, if you insist to stay here it must be brought to code. And the garden needs new soil."
Kira pulled away. "I can do that myself. I told you...just that I'm here is enough. I won't bother you. Don't worry about me. Just...pretend I'm not here."
Miran's brows creased. He preferred her to be needy St this point. The cute way she'd followed him around wasn't all bad. But this? This was annoying. He couldn't pretend she wasn't there. That was the opposite of his role.
"I can't do that. You have two choices: stay with me, or let me help."
Kira scoffed, turning around. Miran looked down as she walked away, noting her bare feet. Not something a human would do, he mused to himself silently. Her hair escaped the confines she put them in, changing hue in the light.
She walked into the house. Miran discarded the hoe, following her. She sighed.
"I'd offer you something, Alpha but I don't have much. Water?"
He shook his head. How could he take anything from such a pitiful soul? She didn't seem to mind her circumstances. Rather than just putting a brave face, she seemed almost content in the work, as if she were running from something through it. He imagined the work was like his music. Filling the silence. She once said she was soft. He thought she was. Her features were even and unbothered, as she hit the stove trying to get it to turn on.
It was interesting. The amount of grace she held with her lot in life. He stood, quietly pushing her away with one strong, gently, steady hand.
"The wiring is faulty. I'll fix it for you. And the roof. You should go sit down. You're soft after all," he mused, rolling his sleeves up to his forearm, effortlessly moving the stove.
"If I it hit enough times it turns on," she interjected behind him. "Probably just two more hits—"
"Or you could you not have to hit it all. Because it would be fixed," he shot, looking down at the wiring behind the stove.
"Then tell me how to do it and I'll—"
Miran glanced back at her, his eyes bright and intense. "Sit down, Kira."
Kira fiddled with her hands, sitting anxiously on the dusty couch. She stood suddenly, beginning to dust. Miran looked at her over her shoulder. It seemed sit down wasn't exactly in her vocabulary. He grunted in displeasure, but didn't ask her to sit again. He focused on his task, cramming himself behind the small space behind the stove.
The house was barely livable. And how had she gotten out this far? It would've taken her at least an hour. Her feet weren't fully healed. The blisters and cracked heels she'd gotten from running so far had opened, and still she stood, dusting. As if it mattered.
"There's a place...it's empty. Not like this, huh? Good upkeep, maintenance. Not this far out either."
She didn't speak, not acknowledging his words. He frowned, and looked down, feeling a zap from the wires. He stood, turning on the stove, before nodding in approval.
He pushed the stove back, and turned it off, wiping his hands.
"Not far from me either," he continued, walking into the next room, a small bathroom. He opened the mirror, gathering a first aide kit.
He returned, his eyes following the trail of blood she'd left behind from her injured feet. She just hummed, and continued dusting with her makeshift cleaner.
Miran sighed, grabbing her arm and dragging her despite her protest to the newly dusted chair. He sat her down firmly, opening the first aide kit.
"It's more troublesome this way," he continued, "having to come all this way. Do the repairs. If you were closer, in a better building—" he sprayed antiseptic on her wounded feet. He thought it a wonder she could walk at all.
She winced, pulling her feet away. He pulled them back, being gentler with his hands, and pulling the spray farther away, as he treated her.
He looked up at her. "Do you understand what I'm saying?"
Kira shook her head. "I can manage. Really. Repairs, treating myself. I can do it all. I promised to stay out of your sight. But...if you keep looking for me, what can I do?"
He chuckled ruefully to himself, bandaging her feet. "You can't walk around like this, never mind repairs."
"I was walking just fine," she grumbled, crossing her arms. He smirked, and shook her head. How cute.
He stood, finishing his task. "The stove should work without hitting it. Tell me if anything else needs to be fixed. And stay out of that dirt heap you call a garden. Nothing will grow except your scars."
Kira watched his broad back as he stalked away. His white shirt was now dirty, but he didn't seem to mind. She looked away. No one told him to find her. Why was he pretending she was inconveniencing him? She was far away from anything and anyone. He was the one he came out after all. She didn't ask him to.
"Thank you, Alpha." She muttered anyway. She couldn't deny he'd helped her. She couldn't be ungrateful even if his meddling was annoying.
"You can thank me by doing what I told you," he murmured, raising his hand as a goodbye, shutting the door behind him. As he did, the screen fell out. He stared at her knowingly, and then down at the displaced screen.
"It's only a 20 minute walk," he offered again. "I'll carry you."
Kira just shook her head. He heaved a sigh, picking up the screen and forcing it back in place, muttering in displeasure as he walked away.
Kira smiled to herself softly. She pulled her legs into chest, resting her cheek on her knees heaving a sigh. A home of her own. Sort of, anyway. Since the Alpha felt pity for her, if she could just disappear from his line of sight, she could probably stay here.
The border was anxiety inducing. Anyone could snatch her, and no one would even hear her scream. But she had to compromise. The closer she was to Miran the more of an annoyance she could be.
She just had to hope her pursuers weren't stupid enough to enter his territory in the first place.
