I ended up staying with them the night, even though I was planning on refusing and returning to my apartment after dinner. But I fell asleep on the sofa in between them while we were watching some blockbuster movie that Michael had purchased on route home from the hospital. It was one of those 'all action, no plot' type of movies that somehow managed to rake in the cash at the cinema. The acting was okay, the comedic lines were few and far between and the only thing going for it was the CGI. However, even before my vision was the way it is now, my appreciation for special effects wanes rapidly without anything else to keep my attention. I ended up falling asleep by the mid point.
And woke up cuddled into Eric's body, while the heat from Michael's body warmed my back, in their bed.
Leaving them was harder than I imagined, I had grown more attached to teasing tiger and the serious, patient wolf than I realised. It was as if their reassurances that they would not reject nor leave me had torn down my walls. It should frighten me how quickly they were becoming entrenched into my life, but being in their company was too calming, preventing my worries from surfacing.
It helped that Michael was heading to work at the hospital for a twelve hour Saturday shift, he gave me a lift to the train station on route. We left a pouting cat behind, but only after he was satisfied that we had his scent marked upon us. His kisses almost drained my will to leave. He thoroughly kissed Michael as well, but the wolf did not submit to him, so he stole another kiss from me, leaving me half dazed. Michael's goodbye was chaste, but that was probably a good thing, he had to get to work and I had a train to catch. My heart hurt, though, now that I was separated from them both and the world was definitely greyer without them beside me.
I took a deep breath as I entered them station. I had survived without them in my life before, I could cope again. This became my mantra throughout the train journey, which took just 40 minutes and before I knew it, I was stepping out onto a familiar platform with a sigh. I claimed one of the waiting taxi's; the bus route would have taken me into the pack's territory and I wasn't ready to face the buried past. Without my walls, without the two men who had stripped them from me, I was feeling especially vulnerable and then, almost as if he knew it, Michael sent me a text. It only stated that he hoped my journey was safe and to come home soon. It was enough. I pressed the phone to my forehead and felt as if some of my strength had returned.
As the taxi pulled up outside the three storey detached house that in all honesty was way to large for a family of three, tears began to blur my vision. I grabbed some notes from my wallet and gave them to the driver, they must have covered the fare as he said nothing as I leapt from the car and ran to the front door. Less than a second from when I rang the doorbell, my father opened the door and I was in his arms, holding myself back from breaking down in his embrace.
"Welcome home, son," he said warmly and guided me into my old home. He already had coffee freshly brewed and offered me a cup, put together how I used to drink it, one sugar and a splash of milk. It gently teased my tastebuds, muted, but not flavourless which was a satisfying realisation in itself. So far only Eric's cooking had produced flavour on my tongue, it was good to know that my body was slowly reawakening once more.
We sat down in the second living room, mother liked to use the other for formal occasions, but this one was more my father's style with an oversized leather sofa that was slightly worn about the edges and the wood stove that would warm us in the winter. Shelves lined the side wall and were covered in well read books, a lot of which were medical history books, but there were also a wave of crime fiction novels, my father's favourite genre. If ever I wanted to be in my father's presence when I was small, I would come in here and curl up against his body while he read. Mother would join us sometimes too, but there was no computer nor television in here, so she would flick through fashion or house design magazines. Grandmama would be in the kitchen or in the sewing room that my parents had made on the second floor, until she was too weak to climb them. The memories swirled about me like a stream of wind, but it was warm and comforting.
"How have you been?" My father asked. "We were surprised to hear from you, is everything okay?"
"Yes, things have been getting better," I told him.
"Your vision? Sense of taste?" He asked, the doctor in him stepping forward.
"Lately, I've started to be able to taste things again," I said, "but not everything," I added recalling Michael's morning coffees. "And I've seen a bit of colour, but it's only been a little. I still see most things in grey tones."
"That is still progress, my boy," my father grinned and I returned his smile with a genuine one of my own. We chatted about things for a little while. Apparently my older cousin just got engaged. He was my father's brother's son and a few years older than me. We weren't close, so it was no surprise to me that I hadn't known this.
His sister, Anne Marie, just finished her degree in design and was looking for a secure position in the city. The girl is my age, but we fought like cat and dog growing up; she didn't like the fact that I was close to grandmama. It was never that she wanted to be so close to our father's mother, it was she always wanted to be the centre of everyone's attention, but grandmama treated all of us the same when her three grandchildren were together. She just happened to live with us once grandpapa died. Now that I think of it, Anne Marie hated Marcus too as he was my friend and refused to give her the time of day. She had demanded he shift into his wolf when they first met and he had told her no. That was the beginning of their mutual animosity.
My uncle wanted to throw a small garden for his children in the coming weeks. As family we were invited, my father encouraged me to attend. I said I would think about it once the date was settled.
We were just making small talk about some events in the news when he was paged, he was on call for house calls this weekend. He apologised, but I said it was fine, I would go hang out in my old room for a bit. My parents had left it the same as when I had left it. I thought I might grab a few things while I was here. There was an old werewolf movie from a few decades ago that always amused me. It was supposed to be a horror about a rogue, created on a misunderstanding, but it always had me in stitches. It used to make Marcus laugh as well.
I scanned through several classic horror movies, I had gathered quite the impressive collection during my teens. I thought it might be fun to rewatch some of them during evenings that I had no work and wasn't with my mates... my chest ached when I thought that. I was really missing them.
My father returned home about ten minutes before my mother and we ended up eating out at my mother's favourite Italian restaurant . Sadly, I couldn't taste my spaghetti carbonara that well, but I didn't want to spoil the evening, so I kept quiet about it. My mother had already repeated the same medical questions my father had asked earlier. However, she decided to delve a little deeper.
"What colours have you seen?" She asked as she took small bites of her lasagne.
"Red, blue and orange," I admitted. "Oh and yellow, once, briefly."
"So you can see what colour this is?" She asked touching the napkin folded to one side. All I could say was that it was a grey that was to the darker side of the palette, so I shook my head. "So where did you see these colours?"
I began to blush automatically. I was a little reluctant to say. It was not that I didn't want to let my parents know about Eric and Michael, but I wasn't sure how they would react. Our experiences with mates were not the best, I had suffered a serious backlash from the rejection and they had had to watch their son helplessly for a year as I slept.
"Don't get mad," I found myself saying. "I've been given second chance mates."
Both of my parents fell silent for a moment. "Mate? Wait, no," my mother put down her fork and took a gulp of her red wine. "Give me a moment." I placed my knife and fork side by side upon my plate. I had lost my appetite.
"It's not bad news, mom," I tried to reassure her.
"And the colours you have seen are due to your mate?" My father asked, his voice quite calm considering the bomb I had dropped upon them.
I nodded in agreement. "Hair, eyes and animal," I explained.
"I'm not sure I am happy with this," my mother said honestly. "After what happened last time; the rejection..."
"There won't be a rejection this time," I said, though I silently admitted it was still a small fear of mine as well. "They told me that I was stuck with them." Remembering Eric's words filled me with warmth and I could feel my lips form a smile unbidden.
"They?" She questioned.
"Um, as strange as this sounds," I told them, "my second chance mates are a bonded pair."
"Is that even possible?" My father asked as I watched my mother drain her glass.
"We were just as surprised," I admitted. "When I realised that the goddess still wanted me mated to her own, I ran and hid, but the bond is strong. I wasn't planning on telling you yet, it's still very new to me. I only started to accept the situation in the last couple of days, but they make me happy."
My mother sighed and summoned the waiter to order a second glass of wine, as well as the dessert menu. I don't think she was taking the situation that well. My father was a bit more accepting. "Tell me about them, what are their names, occupations..?"
"Michael is a doctor," I said, his blue eyes flashing before my vision. "I met him at the hospital and Eric is..."
"Men? You are mated to men?" My mother interrupted. I found my blush returning, but I could feel a rising worry building in my stomach.
"Is that a problem?" I asked, feeling slightly sick. "My ex-mate was too."
My father patted my hand, reassuringly. "Honestly, we assumed that it was a girl who rejected you, as did Marcus. No wonder he couldn't discover who hurt you," he mused.
Mother was quiet for a moment as our plates were taken, before she ordered two pieces of tiramisu, I assumed the second piece was for me as my father didn't really like sweets of any sort. I was right. Hints of the strong flavour made their way through, but I was still feeling too tense and couldn't really enjoy it.
Finally, my mother ended her silence with a bang. "Just remember to use protection," she stated, matter of factly. "You don't want to fall pregnant."
Um... excuse me?