Feast of Fools: Shane's Point of View (A Morganville Fanfic)

Chapter Six

“The only thing we have to fear, is fear itself!”   ~Franklin D. Roosevelt 

Chapter Six

I had been in my room for awhile now. I skipped dinner and now I was hungry and shaken up. The door cracked open and a narrow stream of light flood in. The door shut and, my eyes already adjusted to the dark, I saw Claire. She took a deep breath then came and sat down on the edge of my bed. I continued to stare at the ceiling and she continued to stare at me. “You want to talk about it?” she asked. I didn’t say anything. I just blinked. I didn’t want to talk about it, really. She shouldn’t have to deal with that. “She got to you, didn’t she? Somehow, she got to you.” 

I sighed. How could I forget? Claire was persistent. “They get inside your head, the really strong ones. They can make you-feel things. Want things you don’t really want. Do things you’d never do. Most of them don’t bother, but the ones that d0-they’re the worst.” Her hand reached out and I met her half-way. My skin warmed under hers and I sighed in relief. She was like an anchor. “I don’t want her, Claire. But she made me want her. You understand?”

“It doesn’t matter.” She shook her head. 

“It does.” I squeezed her hand. “Because now that she’s done it once, it’s going to be easy for her to do it again. Don’t try to stop her. Or me, if it comes to that. I have to handle this myself,” I told her. 

“Handle it how?” The trepidation in her voice was clear and she was shaking like a leaf.

“Anyway I can,” I said. I scooted over on the bed and shifted on my side, never letting go of her hand. “You’re shivering.” 

She looked down at me confused, like she didn’t know how badly she was quivering. She stretched out beside me, though, and squeezed my hand. I reached down for a blanket and spread it over us. I smiled as I watched her breathe in the scent of my blanket. We both came closer at the same time and I every curve and hollow of our bodies molded together. They matched up like I never have with anyone else; they matched up perfectly. She was perfect. We were close enough to kiss, but neither one of us tried. It was strange to me-and I imagine to her as well-to just be. I released my hand from hers and brought it up to trace her face. My fingertips found her slightly parted lips and I focused my eyes on the rosy sheen of them. 

“You’re beautiful,” I told her. “When I first saw you, I thought-I thought you were too young to be on your own here, in this town.”

“Not now?” she asked. 

“You’ve made it through better than most of us. But if I could get you to leave this place, I would.” I felt my smile break and saw hers do the same. “I want you to live, Claire. I need you to live.”

She ran her fingers through my hair, “I’m not worried about me.”

“You never are.” I shook my head and smiled. “That’s my point. I worry about you. Not just because of the vampires-because of Jason. He’s still out there somewhere. And-” I paused and considered what I was about to say. It would break my heart if she agreed with me, but she needed to know. “And there’s me, too. Your parents might be right. I might not be the best-” 

She put a finger to my lips to stop me. “I won’t ever stop trusting you, Shane. You can’t make me.” 

I laughed shakily. “My point exactly.”

“That’s why I’m staying here,” she said. I looked up at her, meeting those beautiful, dark exotic eyes of hers. “With you. Tonight.”

I took a deep breath. “Clothes stay on,” I warned her. 

“Mostly,” she agreed with a smile. 

I shook my head, “You know, your parents really are right about me.”

She sighed and rolled her eyes. “No, they’re not. Nobody knows you at all, I think. Not your dad, not even Michael. You’re a deep, dark mystery, Shane.” 

She was right. So right it hurt. I didn’t open myself up enough for anyone to truly know me. No one but Claire. I kissed her gingerly and her lips were as soft and warm as a down blanket on a dark December night. “I’m an open book.” For you, at least. 

She grinned. “I like books.”

“Hey, we’ve got something in common,” I joked. 

“I’m taking off my shoes,” she warned me. 

“Fine. Shoes off.” 

“And my pants,” she added. 

I couldn’t help my smile. “Don’t push it, Claire.”