Flora & Fauna Pt. 04

I refuse to admit I want that sweater back. My back is pressed to Andrius, his arms hugging me and hands clasped just under my breasts to keep me close to his warmth. I can feel my skin greedily stealing all the heat of the fire through the soft cushions and blanket all around me. A shiver rumbles through me and makes the points of my nipples painfully hard.

"Just wear the sweater, Flora."

"No," I snap, "It's the principle of the thing."

"Has anyone ever told you you choose extremely weird hills to die on?"

"Not to my face."

As I twist around for a more cozy position, I feel Andrius jolt back and hear him suck a breath through his teeth.

"Your feet are like ice!"

"No they're not."

"Flora. Sweater."

"Make me."

I feel more than see Andrius right himself to a lying position just as his hand settles flat against my chest and pushes me flat on my back. I expect him to pull the sweater over my head, but he stands instead and the sound of his hooves walking away makes me bolt upright. Questioningly, I say his name into the dark but he doesn't answer until after I've heard a closet door open and shut, and his steps head back toward me.

"What were you getting?"

I squeak when he wraps a hand around my calf and drags me closer. Some of the blanket slips away and I blush at the exposure even in the low light of only the fire.

"Like ice," he reiterates.

He pulls a thick, wool sock over one foot and does the same with the other.

"Why do you even own socks?"

"They're not exactly socks," he tugs one down just low enough that I can see it's open on both ends, "Keeps my ankles warm."

"You just don't want me stroking your cock with my feet again."

"They're multi-purpose." He winks and settles back down onto the pillows before pulling me back against him, "Now sleep."

"I'm not tired."

"Well, close your eyes and pretend. Eventually you'll be asleep for real."

I crane my neck back to look at the angles of his face I can see in the warm light. The mirroring of the fire shows when his eyes open and find my own. A smile tugs at my lips as he leans forward and kisses me. I moan around his tongue at the taste of him finally filling my mouth again. My back arches when I reach a hand back to slide into his hair. Under my fingertips, I feel the strap holding up his hair and gently undo it. His lips leave mine to kiss along one side of my jaw, and the sensitive length of my throat. His hands unclasp to explore all over my torso and hips. I arch my back more to reach higher and bite his neck. The slight jolt I feel of him behind me makes a breathy laugh escape my lips.

"Yes, you're very tempting. I admitted it. Now sleep."

"I don't have to only be temptation."

"Yes you do," he answers, but the words come out tangled in a moan.

His hands don't stop me when I turn around to face him. Wetness drips along my inner thighs as my hands explore his muscled upper torso, my fingers hesitating at the fanciful bizarreness of him I thought I had grown so used to when they meet the line of fur. My lips press to his chest and throat in countless, ravenous kisses. I bring my legs up to wrap around him and feel them bump his hooves as I adjust. I shudder at the strangeness of his body between my thighs, the soft fur over steely muscles all moving together under his skin. Under my touch, I feel Andrius hesitate as well. Still panting, but all of his movements paused as if he is waiting for me to be repulsed or repelled.

The strangeness of my own body seems to have the opposite effect. Strong hands smooth down my sides, pausing again to study the dip of my waist and the detailed bone structure of my hips. I whimper when the hands move lower and cup my buttocks, the fingers sinking deep into my soft flesh. I bury my smiling lips into the crook of his neck. I can't help but be delighted by the way his careful handling of me has become more wanton and savage each time he gives in to touching me. I breathe deep and fill my lungs with the autumnal, sugared apple smell of him.

I'll bring you back to Leaven and drop you off out of sight.

Unbidden the words play back in my mind and chill my skin like droplets from the tips of malicious icicles. I shudder for a new reason and hug my arms around his neck tighter, trying to be more flush with his body.

"I don't want to go back," I say so quietly and so close I feel the heat of my whisper return from his skin and warm my lips.

We both pause and pull back to watch each other. Andrius' lips part as if he'll speak, but his eyes flicker away from my own and he stays silent. I can't bring myself to say anything else, or to translate the cold feeling that's taken over my insides into intelligible words. Instead I rush forward at the same moment as Andrius to meet his lips with my own. I try to smother the sinking, somber feeling as he lavishes me in kisses and his hands trace, memorize, the feel of my body. And I fail.

.

The dress sticking out from the bottom of the bulky sweater makes me feel ridiculous. Even if it is warm and soft. The rough fabric of Andrius' coat moves under my cheek as he walks. I hold his bag and quiver against my lap, keeping myself upright on his back by gripping him tightly with my legs. We both fell asleep shortly after... what I said. The conversation as we ate a breakfast of thick bacon and toast with marionberry jam was light and fun, as if nothing had been said at all. The relief I had felt quickly turned to anxiety and worry. I played the memories in my head over and over again.

Did he not hear me?

Did he not understand?

Does he think I didn't mean it?

Is he waiting for me to bring it up?

"Is it okay if I walk a little? To stretch my legs?" I ask instead.

"Oh, sure."

Andrius stops amidst the fiery colored leaves and reaches a hand around to help me down from his back. He waits until I'm stable on both feet before his hand releases mine and situates his quiver across his own back. He reaches out to take his bag as well but I ignore the offer until his hand drops. I put the thick strap of his bag across my chest and continue walking beside him. Inside are the two rabbits he got shortly after we set out. Another section is little wooden boxes of persimmons and hazelnuts we collected. The contents rattle together at my side as we walk in silence.

"Hey, Andrius." I carefully rush ahead a few steps so I can look him in the face as we talk.

"Hmm?"

"When I go back to Leaven," I pause and try to phrase the thought as best I can, "Can we still see each other?"

His expression falls and he looks away from me.

"I mean," I elaborate frantically, "You said you go to some shops in Leaven anyway. We could get lunch when you're around for other things. And I could buy some roundtrips from sprite-messengers."

"For what?" He says matter-of-factly.

My steps stumble and a blurry prickling covers my eyes.

"I just meant that we could... Still spend time together? And-"

"Flora," he stops completely and turns to face me where I've paused in the trail of leaves, "For what?"

My vision blurs even more as my eyes flicker over his entire body. I refuse to understand. I shake my head and take a stubborn step back from him, his words.

"Flora," he says softly again, "Someday you will meet someone-"

"No," I croak out.

"Someone who isn't a brute like Claudius. And you will want to be with him. And I can promise you he will not be okay with 'oh, by the way, this is my centaur friend. Don't worry, we don't fuck, we just skinnydip and kiss sometimes.'"

"Then I won't get married."

"In all your life, you will want to-"

"No."

"Okay," he continues slowly, "Then what about me?"

I freeze and stare up at him, hating the images the question puts in my head. I shrug and look away.

"I'm not trying to be cruel. I just think we should be realistic."

Andrius' hand reaches up, his fingertips slowly stroking down my cheek. I jerk away from the soft feeling without looking at his eyes.

"Well," I hate the way my words come out as a strangled, near-crying sound, "Your reality is garbage."

I spin on the ball of one foot and stumble as I storm off toward the house. Behind me, I hear Andrius rush forward a few steps before I catch myself. Blood heats my cheeks and I don't look back as I continue on unsteadily. The hoofbeats behind me are slow and never come too close. Swallowing my quiet sobs nearly chokes me more than once, but I refuse to audibly cry. The hot tears streaming down my face are enough humiliation for one afternoon.

.

The smooth stone pestle in my grip gives me something to vent with at least. I haven't looked at Andrius since we returned. I felt him looking at me when he asked if I wanted him to prepare dinner himself and I shook my head. Other than that, he's only given me instructions on the little bits of prep work to do. I can hear his knife as he works on the other end of the countertop. The clink of it being set down, and the sound of him cleaning his hands before his hooves slowly click against the wooden floor towards me.

One his hands goes over mine and stops the repetitive movement. I release the pestle and flex my hand when I see the completely pulverized hazelnuts filling the stone mortar.

"Is there anything else for me to do?"

"You could talk to me."

I bite the inside of my cheek and shrug.

"Flora," his fingertips go under the point of my chin and make me face him, "I know it's not the answer you wanted to hear. I don't like it either-"

"Then say a different one," I snap.

"What's your answer? We keep spending time like this together? And, what? Five years from now one or both of us meet someone, and we've hurt each other all the more because we spent years getting attached?"

"You don't know that will happen," I grumble sadly.

"It's more likely than it never happening."

"I like it better than your reality."

"Unfortunately, reality doesn't care about what we like."

I jerk my chin away from his hand.

"It doesn't mean I don't like being here with you. And it doesn't mean that we can't enjoy this short time for what it is-"

"If there's no more prep work, I'm going to take a bath."

Before he can say anything more realistic and terrible, I rush down the short hall to the washroom and shut the door fast to hide behind it. His bath is so deep that the only way for me to use it is standing or upright on my knees. The block of caramel colored soap makes my hair and skin smell a lot like honey-cream and cider. And a little like Andrius' own skin. A selfish, childish impulse in me contemplates stealing it.

"This isn't fair," I say out loud to no one.

"Enjoy it for what it is," I say in a bitter, mocking impression of Andrius' voice before I dunk myself below the surface of the water.

In the heavy quiet under the sudsy water, I scrub at my hair. Heat swarms my heart and my head as my circumstances chase their tails in endless circles.

"Enjoy it for what it is," I spit out when I emerge from the water covered in milky bubbles.