Flora And Fauna Pt 16

Satisfying soreness throbs in the delicate flesh of my sex as I twist my legs together under the water. Andrius' muscular upper half is at my back, flexing against my sensitive skin as he raises his arms to scrub at his hair. Clouds of frothy suds glide down from his hair to my shoulders and cascade down my chest. I suck in a deep breath and my nipples harden reflexively at the autumnal sugar smell of him. His bent forelegs are to either side of my thighs where I'm kneeling in the giant bath basin. The shaggy fur of his lower chest wafts around my butt and lower back.

One of his hands comes around to my front, his skin tan compared to my own and clutching a washcloth wrapped around the brick of red-brown soap. I bite my lip, forcing myself to stay still as he gently rubs the silky froth all over my skin. Soon I can't resist and raise up onto my knees so I can spin around to face him. His smile is a white flash against his tan skin when I throw my arms around him. I pull him close with one arm hugged around his shoulders, using the other hand to swipe all his golden hair out of his face. A quiet moan slips from me against his lips as we press together again.

"I appreciate the enthusiasm," he muses, pulling away just long enough to speak. "But you are going to be exhausted tomorrow if we don't do any actual relaxing on our day off."

"Am not," I protest. Although he's probably right. The last few days have been spent in a haze of catching up on my training and helping out in the workshop, and catching up with each other at night. I don't know when we've even really slept. More often than not, the mornings since I've come back to Prophia, we've woken up tangled together. Unsure who started it and too addicted to each other to care.

Andrius' hand glides along my body. I squirm as he accidentally tickles my underarm. He flinches away and his fingers slide down my arm instead, until they reach my hand. The motion slows as he reaches my ring and twists it, centering the diamond on my finger. I stretch my fingers out and feel the hot, slick metal of his own ring. His hands quickly go around my waist and spin me around, pinning my back to the wall of the basin. The movement of his own massive form makes the water loudly splash around us as he turns to keep his front against me and bends his forelegs to drop back into the water. The sound of the waves echo off the richly dark hardwood walls.

"Will you think I'm crazy if I say that seeing you wear a ring from me is a turn-on?"

I snicker and raise up on my knees to bury my face in the crook of his neck. "No judgment. Especially if you don't judge me for feeling the same way."

His rough hands slide down to cup my buttocks when I hop up against his body. My legs twist around the demarcation where his muscular, hairless upper torso meets the soft, furry curve of his lower half. I scramble as our wet skin slips against each other, making me almost fall away from him. But his laugh rumbles against me as he realizes and squeezes me tighter to keep us together.

A sound like cicada wings, reminding me of summer, slips through the tranquil sound of water lapping against our bodies as we continue exploring each other. I ignore it until I feel an oddly textured, paper-thin material swipe my cheek. Just as I begin to open my eyes, Andrius pulls away from me and barks out a sound of shock. My eyes snap open to find him staring past me, the white showing all around his black eyes that are slowly going back to gold as his pupils contract..

"How do you keep getting in here?!" he snaps toward the edge of the bath over my shoulder. "This place is draft proof!"

I spin to face in the direction he's yelling to see Quince sitting on the edge of the basin, glow turned low and kicking the water with her toes. "If I tell you, you'll board it up!" she chirps.

"I'm glad we're friends. You'd make a terrifying enemy."

The sprite crinkles her nose as she smiles wide, showing off her innumerable fangs. "I put the new schedule on the kitchen counter."

"Ugh," I groan. "Study time already?"

"Claude says he tried to get as many events crammed close together as he could. So you won't have to go back and forth as much for a while."

"Oh. Goodie," I mumble. Even though he is attempting to give me as much time in Prophia as he can. Some part of me had foolishly hoped he'd forgotten all about me. Or run away to Ivalier, having decided to be done with all of this. "Will you wait for us out at the hearth?"

Quince quickly looks back and forth at us, her pink hair billowing like a milkweed fluff around her scrutinizing face. "Look away!"

Andrius stares directly at her. "I'm definitely watching. I want to know where the gap is."

"Flower! Make him turn away!"

The pouting and the nickname makes me laugh, which only makes her kick the bubbles on the surface of the water more furiously in her tantruming. "Maybe all three of us should just go out to the hearth."

Andrius nods in agreement and stands with me still wrapped around his front. Water noisily pours out of his soaked fur as he steps out of the basin. He doesn't bother trying to displace Quince as she clings to the swinging golden hair of his wet tail. She only lets go when Andrius sits down on the rug in front of the open fireplace and releases me. Partially trapped under a pillow is my silky bathrobe, the reflected tone of the fire overwhelming the muted lavender color of the fabric. I stretch out an arm to grab it and wrap it around myself, the slinky fabric immediately clinging to my wet skin. The sprite turns up her rosy glow to fly into the kitchen, then back with several tightly folded sheets of paper which she drops into my lap.

With a preemptively tired sigh, I unfold the collection. The corner of the first paper has a scrawled apology for the messiness of the schedule. Flipping through, I notice that they're not actual date planner pages with notes added this time, but a grid that Claude clearly drew in a rush. Some of the words are smeared out of the bounds of the numbered boxes. It must've been a busy month to have made his usual meticulous nature this chaotic.

"Hey," I call out when I realize that Quince is flying away from us again. "Aren't you staying?"

"I'm not allowed this time," she pouts from within her glow that bobs in the air. "Claude's been really busy so he said I have to come right back after I deliver the schedule."

"Aw. Okay. I'll see you back in Leaven."

"Turn your backs!"

I close my eyes and put a hand over And's. He huffs out a laugh and grabs my wrist, pulling my hand down. But in the few seconds that takes, Quince has already made her escape. Andrius smiles as if he's impressed, even as his spark-flecked eyes scan every seam of the house for how she may have done it.

From the look of the schedule, I'll soon be spending a week getting as little sleep as Claudius does. After my second read through, I set the paper stack face down on the rug and rub at my tired eyes. Andrius finishes brushing out his long hair and wraps one arm around my waist, gently tugging me closer until my back is pressed against his chest. I flop a blanket over my lap and his folded forelegs. The sweet, spiced smell of him fills my nose as I turn my head so that my cheek is resting on his bare skin.

"Hey, there's something I always mean to ask but I keep forgetting."

"Hm?" I mumble, having nearly nodded off.

"What did your letter to me say?"

I tense and sit upright so I can turn around to face him. "What letter?" I feign obliviousness.

"When we found each other again in Leaven, you said you sent a letter to the lodge but I wasn't there. What did it say?" He smiles openly at me and it makes my stomach sink painfully fast.

"Nothing really. Just sad, rambling stream of consciousness stuff," I lean closer to hug my arms around him and hide my faltering poker face, but he sits up straighter to continue watching my expression. "What?"

"Tell me."

"It just said stuff like 'I miss you and want to be with you-'"

"You're lying." His expression immediately falls as he says it so certainly.

My jaw involuntarily clenches when he interrupts me with the correct accusation. "It was months ago. It hardly matters now."

"If it matters so little, telling me shouldn't be a problem."

"Why are you being so weird about this?" I snap, the racing of my heart making me frantic and agitated.

"Are you serious?"

"I've been here, in this relationship with you, for months! There's no good reason for a letter I scribbled when I was miserable and thought I'd never get to see you again should matter more than all the time you've spent knowing me."

"Did it say you... didn't want-"

"Obviously not! I'm here with you because it's what I wanted."

"Then tell me what it said."

"No," I answer curtly, my hands balling into fists at my sides.

Andrius' expression turns stern and probing as he silently watches me. I can feel how unconvincing my face and how badly I'm failing to alter it. His forelegs suddenly pull away from either side of me as he stands. While I'm still scrambling for something to say, he grabs a sweater from the floor and pulls it over his head as he heads for the front door.

"And?" I ask quietly as I stand and take a few steps toward him.

"I'm going for a walk," he responds without looking at me as he takes his coat from the hook beside the door.

"Can I come w-"

"No," he interrupts gruffly and exits with his coat not fully pulled on.

Alone at the hearth, I'm trapped with the sound of wood crackling apart in the fireplace and my own frantic, worried breaths.

.

The sun is high when I finish doing tasks around the house to try to distract myself from the nervous misery wreaking havoc in my head. And hasn't come back all day, not to the house or the workshop. I drink another gulp of water that does nothing for how dry my mouth feels. Light streaming in through the window makes my ring explode in sparkles. I put my hand down to hide it from myself and tilt my head back, trying to force away the tears that start to blur my vision. So much for thinking I couldn't cry any more today than I already have.

Hanging from the coat rack is my rucksack. I slide my fingers into one of the smallest pockets, fishing out a couple of shining coins. It's not lost on me, as I pull on all my warmest clothes, that they're all items Andrius and his family gifted to me.

Outside, I hold an angled hand over my eyes to block out the blinding sun until I'm in the shadows of the town's buildings. Crisp late-winter wind whips through the paths. The gravel of their streets swallows the sound of my boots as I wander with my eyes aimed to the trees and roofs.

A tiny snarl catches my attention and I turn in circles, searching for the source. Standing on a barren tree branch is a sprite, clutching a croquette and growling at another of their kind, both of them engulfed in their glows. I whistle up at them both, not too concerned with whose attention I get. The one holding the deep-fried ball turns my way and I hold the two coins up in the air. At my offer, the sprite throws their food at the other one and shoots down to meet me. Spending so much time with Quince has made me more aware of the little differences among her kind. Their voices are all so lilting and high, their bodies so ambiguous, that I'm never sure about the sex of them. But subtle spots and stripes of differing textures to their skin, the markings as unique as fingerprints, are visible up close. Or, more accurately, they are when I'm not being blinded.

"Can you turn down the light, please?"

The sprite lowers their more tangerine-tinted glow down as far as possible, revealing a suspicious expression on their face. The little hands grab for the coins as they begin to rattle off prices for varying distances.

"I don't actually have a letter to send," I interrupt. "I have a question about how your job works."

"Uhhh." The sprite looks me up and down. "We don't have any openings."

"No, not that. I've heard that when letters don't get delivered, like if there's no one to accept them, that you don't dispose of them right away? That you save them somewhere? Is that true?"

They pause so long after my question that I wonder if I've confused them. But then they glare at me and their wings vibrate aggressively. "Are you a cop?"

"What?"

"Because if you are, you have to tell me!" The accusingly pointed finger jabs me in the nose. "I know the law!"

"I'm not a cop!" A couple of centaurs exiting a nearby business turn toward us in shock. I lower my voice before going on. "I sent a letter a while ago and it didn't get delivered. I... I think I might need the letter back."

"Oh." The wings immediately still and the sprite plops down on my shoulder calmy. "Well, it depends. How long ago? Was it sent from Prophia?"

"A few months ago. I sent it from and to addresses in Leaven."

"Hmmm. Maybe. Leaven has a more extensive storage system than we do here. I don't know exactly how long they keep undelivered letters for though."

"Okay. Thanks for the answers." I hold out my open hand with the coins in my palm. The sprite hugs both in their arms and flies away with them.

.

Whatever emotion was painted on my face when I arrived at the pub, it was enough to quiet even Ares. I can't go home yet. I'm not ready to face any part of that. Even after the cold hours I spent wandering, trying to tire my whirling mind but only managing to exhaust my legs. A plate of untouched food sits in front of me on the bar. Andrius' dark-haired brother has busied himself with things that keep him nearby, clearly hoping that I'll explain what's going on. I haven't. With an attempt at a sympathetic smile, he gives up and disappears into the kitchen.

Behind me the door opens and shuts. I shiver from the quick gust of cold air that swirls through the room. Then shiver for a different reason when it carries a distinct sugary smell. Andrius sits beside me. And for many minutes, neither of us says anything at all.

"You weren't at the house," he quietly breaks the silence.

"Neither were you."

"I needed to think."

A long pause drags between us. I nudge my plate over so it sits between us as a peace offering. All that changes is that the food goes uneaten by two people instead of one. "I hate that we're fighting," I admit, my eyes aimed down at the woodgrain whorls of the bar.

"I know. So do I."

"Can't you just trust me?"

The pause goes on so long it compels me to look at him. Andrius stares ahead as his jaw clenches. "That is such an unfair question," he answers.

"I don't mean for it to be." When he doesn't say anything else, I go on, even though I'm uncertain if what I say next is true. "I think I want to be alone."

"Will you come home before dark so I don't worry?"

"Yes." The simple care in the question makes my heart flutter with hope. But nothing has really changed yet. Nothing has been repaired.

Andrius rubs my back with one hand before he stands, the warmth soaking through my sweater and soothing a fraction of the worry that has morphed into physical pain. Then he stands and leaves the pub. His metal hoof covers tink against the floor as he walks away. A fresh burst of cold air alerts me that he's exited. I slide the plate back in front of myself. And continue to not pluck anything from it.

.

When I wake up the next morning, I'm alone in the massive bed. A mug of tea is waiting for me on the nightstand. But the peace offering is cold when I take it in my hands. It's been sitting there a while. I take one sip, then slam the mug back down when my stomach immediately twists at the intrusion.

As I pack my bag, I feel wrung out by the emotions of the previous day. Every movement feels heavy and slow as if I'm swimming through sludge. If Quince were still here, I would send her to Claudius with a message that I can't be in Leaven right now. He'd be furious I'm sure, but he'd have to get over it. But I don't know of any sprites that can make the journey as fast as she can.

Last night, Andrius and I slept further apart than we ever have. Though we were close enough that I could feel the warmth of his breath on my hair, neither of us bridged the gap to touch each other. I shouldn't be leaving yet. I look down at the last bit of packing, the schedule. Hours after I'm set to return, there's a wedding I'm supposed to accompany Claudius to. I could take the train, but I'd have to ride the horse loaned to me from Holt stables to get to the station. And then what would I do with her? Not to mention Claude's insistence that I never use the train to return lest someone who knows either of us sees me.

Bundled in my traveling clothes, I enter the amber warmth of the workshop. The front room is crowded with finished pieces ready to be delivered. In the second area, Andrius is standing at his work bench. His eyebrows furrow close as he measures a stack of planks and checks something in his ledger. I stop beside the table and wait to be acknowledged. When I'm not, I drop my stuffed rucksack onto the sawdust covered floor to force his gaze to me.

"I have to head back to Leaven."

"Okay," he says indifferently and turns back to his work.

Tears build on my eyes and I struggle to not let them free. "Really? Is 'okay' all you want to say to me?"

His back stiffens and his sigh blows dust from the page he's bowed over. The warm-toned specks that explode away from the paper shine in the light. I remain painfully still as he approaches, then wraps his arms loosely around me. I hug him back and nuzzle as close as I can against the bumpy cableknit of his sweater. "We'll talk when you get back," he soberly assures me.

I can tell he means for it to be comforting. He means for it to translate to: we aren't done, we'll get through this. But that's not how the words feel as they sink into my veins. It feels like being told the wound in my chest will be left gaping and tender for the length of my time away from him. Every day. Every hour. Every moment that I have to spend performing at Claude's side, I will have to feel this gouge exposed and raw, suspended in time.

"Okay," I whisper, still pressed to the heat of his chest. "I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you, too." Andrius lifts me so my arms can go around his neck instead. The moment of normalcy relieves an iota of my tension.

We stand like that for a moment, not speaking as we hold onto each other and sink deep into this dire feeling of nothing changing. Too soon, he lowers me to the floor and lets go. I take my backpack from the floor and hoist it over my shoulder again as I head for the doorway. When I turn back, Andrius' attention has already returned to his work. I nod to myself, letting it settle in my gut that I caused this, and leave the workshop.

And I leave Prophia.