everything.
“You’re awake?” He pops his head into the room, light spilling in from the hallway.
“Why did you leave me?” I pout, reaching my arms out for him.
He comes to me, enfolding me in his arms as he climbs back into bed. He’s wearing a pair of boxers and nothing else. I like it. My hands roam all over his body. I bury my face in his neck, liking his smell, even if I can’t identify it. As senses go, touch is amazing, taste is fabulous, but scent is the most interesting. The food, the soap, even the sheets, all have their own, distinct smell.
“I thought you’d sleep through the night,” he says.
“And you weren’t going to sleep with me?” I protest, running my hands through his thick, dark hair as he kisses my throat.
“I have insomnia,” he confesses, smiling at the way I shake my head at the unfamiliar word. “I don’t sleep well.”
“I don’t like sleep.” I wrinkle my nose. “Wastes too much time. Do you have more food?”
“Yes.” He smiles. “Are you hungry?”
“No, but I want more tastes!” I bite his shoulder, then lick it by way of apology.
“Then more tastes you shall have!” He laughs, getting out of bed and pulling me with him.
I find muffins on the counter and devour two. One blueberry and one bran. I like blueberry best. Those little blue bits are divine.
“We should get you some real blueberries,” Zeph says, rooting through the fridge. “And strawberries. Those are really something.”
“Where can we get some?” I ask, licking muffin crumbs from the paper.
“The store.”
Of course, I remember stores—those big, well-lit places with aisles were humans traded paper money for things. So many things. Humans seemed to have lots of needs.
“Let’s go to the store!” I stand, leaving my glass of milk Zeph has poured me. When he told me it came from the udder of a cow, I’d lost interest. When he told me I should hear where cheese came from, I stopped him. I didn’t want to know.
“You need clothes, little one.” His gaze sweeps over my nude form. I keep forgetting about clothes, although now that he mentions it, I am a little chilly. I’m not used to this whole temperature thing.
“I’m not so little anymore,” I protest as he comes over and puts his arms around me. His body and mine seem to fit together like puzzle pieces.
“No, but you still feel little in my arms.” He kisses my neck, sending those little shivery feelings down my spine, making the hair on my arms stand up. “Oh, damn, it’s Christmas Eve. The stores are closed.”
“There has to be something open,” I protest.
“Maybe a gas station.” He sighs. “But they don’t sell blueberries.”
“What do they sell?” I ask, curious. I’ve never paid that much attention to human consumption. Fairies don’t need anything.
“Gas.” He laughs. “Cookies, chips, soda, Slurpees…”
“What’s a Slurpee?” I perk up.
“Do you really want to know?” He smiles, planting a kiss on my nose.
“I want to know everything!” I announce, throwing my arms wide, my head back, letting him catch me and pull me back to him. “I want to see everything. I want to do everything.”
“You’ve only got twenty-four hours.” He reminds me of this with a wistful smile.
“I know, so we better get started now!” I don’t like to think about how short our time is. I just want to make the most of it, and even if I feel sleepy, I don’t care. I don’t want to waste a minute with my eyes closed.
“What do you want to do most?” He kisses the top of my head, hands roaming over my back.
“You mean, besides you?” I slant a smile at him, sliding a hand into his boxers.
“Yes, besides me.” He grins but doesn’t stop me.
“Let’s do Christmas,” I say, feeling him stir in my hand. I don’t know what doing Christmas looks like, exactly, but I know how it makes me feel, and I like it. I’ve also found a few other things I like here in the human world. “And
“You’re awake?” He pops his head into the room, light spilling in from the hallway.
“Why did you leave me?” I pout, reaching my arms out for him.
He comes to me, enfolding me in his arms as he climbs back into bed. He’s wearing a pair of boxers and nothing else. I like it. My hands roam all over his body. I bury my face in his neck, liking his smell, even if I can’t identify it. As senses go, touch is amazing, taste is fabulous, but scent is the most interesting. The food, the soap, even the sheets, all have their own, distinct smell.
“I thought you’d sleep through the night,” he says.
“And you weren’t going to sleep with me?” I protest, running my hands through his thick, dark hair as he kisses my throat.
“I have insomnia,” he confesses, smiling at the way I shake my head at the unfamiliar word. “I don’t sleep well.”
“I don’t like sleep.” I wrinkle my nose. “Wastes too much time. Do you have more food?”
“Yes.” He smiles. “Are you hungry?”
“No, but I want more tastes!” I bite his shoulder, then lick it by way of apology.
“Then more tastes you shall have!” He laughs, getting out of bed and pulling me with him.
I find muffins on the counter and devour two. One blueberry and one bran. I like blueberry best. Those little blue bits are divine.
“We should get you some real blueberries,” Zeph says, rooting through the fridge. “And strawberries. Those are really something.”
“Where can we get some?” I ask, licking muffin crumbs from the paper.
“The store.”
Of course, I remember stores—those big, well-lit places with aisles were humans traded paper money for things. So many things. Humans seemed to have lots of needs.
“Let’s go to the store!” I stand, leaving my glass of milk Zeph has poured me. When he told me it came from the udder of a cow, I’d lost interest. When he told me I should hear where cheese came from, I stopped him. I didn’t want to know.
“You need clothes, little one.” His gaze sweeps over my nude form. I keep forgetting about clothes, although now that he mentions it, I am a little chilly. I’m not used to this whole temperature thing.
“I’m not so little anymore,” I protest as he comes over and puts his arms around me. His body and mine seem to fit together like puzzle pieces.
“No, but you still feel little in my arms.” He kisses my neck, sending those little shivery feelings down my spine, making the hair on my arms stand up. “Oh, damn, it’s Christmas Eve. The stores are closed.”
“There has to be something open,” I protest.
“Maybe a gas station.” He sighs. “But they don’t sell blueberries.”
“What do they sell?” I ask, curious. I’ve never paid that much attention to human consumption. Fairies don’t need anything.
“Gas.” He laughs. “Cookies, chips, soda, Slurpees…”
“What’s a Slurpee?” I perk up.
“Do you really want to know?” He smiles, planting a kiss on my nose.
“I want to know everything!” I announce, throwing my arms wide, my head back, letting him catch me and pull me back to him. “I want to see everything. I want to do everything.”
“You’ve only got twenty-four hours.” He reminds me of this with a wistful smile.
“I know, so we better get started now!” I don’t like to think about how short our time is. I just want to make the most of it, and even if I feel sleepy, I don’t care. I don’t want to waste a minute with my eyes closed.
“What do you want to do most?” He kisses the top of my head, hands roaming over my back.
“You mean, besides you?” I slant a smile at him, sliding a hand into his boxers.
“Yes, besides me.” He grins but doesn’t stop me.
“Let’s do Christmas,” I say, feeling him stir in my hand. I don’t know what doing Christmas looks like, exactly, but I know how it makes me feel, and I like it. I’ve also found a few other things I like here in the human world. “And
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