Eve

"Since you're staying here, it makes sense for you to know where things are." Brushing past him, making sure to avoid contact after the weird effect his touch has on me.

The odd tingles that flickered across my skin had been fleeting when he scooped me up the night of my shift, and the coolness his skin left when I was boiling with fever equally stuns me. I'd been sure they were electric shocks, now I'm not sure with the new crazy wolf side-effects I've developed.

"That was the sitting room, feel free to use the television if you get bored."

A stiff inclination of the head is my reply, something I'm going to find myself getting used to rather than words.

Shuffling to the left at the end of the hall, I wait for him to finish sniffing the area before proceeding. "Kitchen," I begin, pointing at the cupboards and utensils upon entry. "The washing machine is under the sink, there's a cooker and microwave; the cupboards starting on the left above the microwave stores stuff for making drinks, gravy, small spices like pepper, and sauces such as tomato and barbeque; middle is for cups and glasses; the end is for snacks like sandwich fillers, bread, crisp, etcetera."

He doesn't say a word, and heat creeps up my neck as I ramble onward to the fridge. His presence makes the place feel smaller than it is, and I'm hyper aware of where he is before moving for fear I'll knock into him. I'm not sure how he feels, but this was his plan, so the big guy is going to have to suck it up.

Although, I wish he would say something so I know he's paying attention.

Glancing over my shoulder, his nostrils flare slightly to show he's scenting the room, but his eyes are solely on me.

"T-this is the fridge," I stammer, facing the contents once the door is ajar. "Anything dairy related like butter, milk, and cheese will be in here. Or fresh like meat and eggs, and below. . ." Closing the fridge, I open the freezer. "Is the freezer. Frozen food goes in here, again, meat, ice cream, chips," I list off the top of my head, shutting it and pivoting on my heels to return to the hallway.

I'm not sure how he's finding it since I'm the one doing all the talking. I can only hope he isn't judging. The place is doing well, I want to get round to decorating at some point, not because it needs a refresh but because I want a change. It's been like this since Aunt Josephine passed, and I couldn't bring myself to decorate it when the memories of us in here on her visits surface. But I know she would want me to do it.

Eyeing the stairs lining the wall opposite the side the kitchen's on, it's hard to distract myself with him looming over me with each step we take, feeling his eyes on me the whole way. Nothing fills the small journey, just our footsteps and light breathing.

"T-the bathroom is that door on the end, mine is the one back here," I stick my thumb over my shoulder in the opposing direction so he can see. "The spare room here in the middle will be yours. I think that concludes everything, any questions?"

He nods. "No. Thank you."

I was expecting him to stalk down the stairs and do whatever it is he wants to do, and I was half right. He does wander off, only to sniff around the bathroom, then the spare room, and the second he skims past me toward my bedroom, panic infiltrates me.

"Woah, hold your horses!" I shriek, chasing after him as he enters my bedroom and takes a deep whiff. "You can't be in here!"

It feels tiny now.

Scurrying around him, I hide the pyjamas I had planned to wear the night I got back from the party, only the night shorts and baggy top was replaced with thick joggers and a jumper to hide the markings layering my body. My room is in a state, I didn't realise how bad it was. My sheets are covered in streaks of dried blood where I was too sore to wrestle with them to clean, and two pairs of clothes I had worn: ones the day after smeared with thin lines of crimson from where my wounds had come open during the night to re-heal, and a dirty pair I was too tired to climb out of.

The sight of it brings back the familiar fear and anxiety I had felt, nausea, and it intensifies when I remember his presence. He's in my room. The one place where none of them should've been allowed to touch. Gritting my teeth, I try to throw the images to the back of my mind, but it only comes back in waves of emotion. Sorrow, anger, and loneliness.

"Why?"

Snapping back to the present, it takes everything in me to not bite his head off, even after what he and that monster put me through, and force out, "Privacy. It's my room, and there are things in here that men shouldn't see unless. . . well, you shouldn't see. "

His eyes float toward my chest of drawers, and my cheeks tingle as I sidestep to intercept his view. "Right."

For the first time, I take him in since our arrival and notice he's still wearing those torn clothes. I don't point it out; I'd rather not make this awkwardness stretch out by telling him to go home and retrieve some clothes.

Rubbing the inside of my wrist, I drop my line of sight to my—where did my shoes go?

Thinking back, nothing comes to mind other than when I had been asleep in his bed at the cabin.

They must still be there.

I can't help but think how that's another problem I'm going to solve, only, it's easier than the rest because I've got a backup pair to use, and I'd rather not go back to the cabin if I can help it.

"Like I said earlier, grab whatever you need. I have to head out either later or tomorrow for a food shop; if there's anything you need, I'll nab it whilst I'm out," I ramble, breaking the silence as I fidget in the centre of my room when it's clear vacating hasn't crossed his mind.

I want to ask if I should be worried while being in public with this weird stuff going on, but a deeper part of me thinks it's stupid.

"I'll go too," he inserts, taking a step toward me, only to stop when I tense up to stop from mirroring it back. "I need to assess what you're like in a public setting to know if there are things that can trigger you shifting, or merely exhibiting your traits."

It doesn't take me long to guess he means the glowing eyes or long nails and teeth. After what happened with Kai, I'm certain that's what it was.

"And you need to learn to shield your thoughts," he presses. "Picture what you want to say to me, the rest, imagine behind a wall. After practice, it will be natural."

"O-OK, I'll keep that in mind," I breathe, shifting weight from one foot to the other.

Recalling our agreement, no amount of time can brace me for what's to come as guilt crashes into me.

"So, the r-rules," I stammer, unable to meet his eye. "One: I'll try to keep the bathroom door open when not in use to avoid mix ups, but we'll knock in case. Two," I say, itching my wrist, "you may do as you please as long as you're comfortable, and I'll do what I have to do; I can tell you prefer me to not poke my nose into your business, so I think it's fair."

His eyes narrow, and I dismiss it fast or I would risk folding. I'm not going to contradict myself, I know he doesn't want me butting in, and it suits me because I would rather keep what's left of myself private. I'm not sure what his game is with this hot and cold helpful act, but he's not getting anything from me.

"Three: if you need to nip out for. . . whatever wolfish things you guys have to do, feel free. The only condition I have is that you give me a heads up on your return so I don't die from a heart attack." Thinking hard, I release a slow breath. "I think that's everything; if there is anything else, we can work on it. If you don't mind, I have to catch up on things. . ."

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I wait patiently, staring at the floor so I don't have to look at his face and drown in guilt. I hate being harsh to people, it's horrible, and the recurring glean of hurt in his eyes before it's masked stabs me in the chest.

"Thank you." With that, he turns sharply on his heels and makes sure to pull the door up behind him until it clicks.

Only when I hear him head downstairs, I release a shaky breath and scrub my face.

This is going to suck.